The Roar of The Rising Hero
by AlphaNeph1321
Summary: What would happen if the "Lion King"'s characters were human-like? If they had the bodies, the emotions and the minds of humans along with the voices? Following the recent trend with the supernatural creatures, I give you a version of the "Lion King" filled with shape-shifters, magical beings, love and action, taking place in the mystical land of Saeva. Perfect for lovers of magic.
1. Prologue

The sun was rising this morning brighter than ever, illuminating the jungles, the deserts and the rain forests of the great land of Saeva from edge to edge. His reddish golden glow wakes up the creatures of Saeva from their deep lethargy and, along with the message of a new day dawning, delivers the message of a new life that is about to begin. Today, the nature's beauty is at its zenith. Every tree, stream and flower is full of joy and life as they celebrate along with the breathing inhabitants of the land the birth of the werelion prince, Simba.

The werewolves are coming out of their caves, the centaurs are leaving the woods and gallop south and the shape-shifters take their animal form in order to arrive faster to their destination. All the creatures of the kingdom head towards the wide, unearthly beautiful and wild grassland which is the capital, the center and the beating heart of Saeva, the Pride Lands (named after its monarchs, the werelions' pride). But the common final destination is a much more special place: the Pride Rock. The Pride Rock is one of Saeva's wonders of nature: an enormous stone-made cave shaped as a throne in which the werelions' pride reside – and also, today, would be where the presentation of the newborn prince would take place. Every pack, herb and race in the kingdom gathered around the imposing structure, anticipating to see the newborn cub.

The werelions are the ruling race, the kings and queens of all Saeva. The ones who preserve the order and peace between the species, who form and wreak the Law of The Wild as it is called; according to which every species can hunt, shift, explore his second nature and discover their inner animal but only as long as their humanity remains intact. The current King, Mufasa, has been one of the greatest leaders of the pride and one of the keenest rulers Saeva has ever had and now his grand legacy would be continued through his son, Simba.

On top of Pride Rock, standing near the very pointing edge so as all his subjects can see him, in his human form but yet in all his imposing and majestic glory, it's King Mufasa. The warm tropical wind blows through his tawny hair, his expression is strong, wise and serious and his posture reflects power and majesty – ideal look for a King.

A shadow appeared in the sky, a bird with wings in the all the shades of blue, golden beak and sharp talons. It flew above the heads of the attending beings and it finally landed in front of King Mufasa. Then the bird grew bigger, his wings and talons turned into human limbs and his colorful feathers turned into a cyan clamys. A middle-aged man with dark hair, kind brown eyes and a smile filled with respect now stands in the place of the bird and bows before the King. Mufasa responds to this gesture of admiration with a thankful nod of his head and a light smile. The man's name is Zazu, he is a shape-shifter with the power to transform into a bird, a skill which has earned him the place as Mufasa's eyes and ears in the sky and his personal counselor. Zazu takes his place next to the King and gazed down at the crowd.

Suddenly the crowd opens so as to Rafiki – the wisest among druids, a servant of the werelions' pride and a dear friend of King Mufasa – passes through. The old druid walks arching by werejaguars, weretigers and shape-shifters of all kinds, carrying his cane for balance as he's climbing up the side of the Pride Rock. When Rafiki gets to the top, he and Mufasa exchange a warm friendly embrace and the two men lead the old druid to the inside of the cave.

There they find Queen Sarabi – Mufasa's beloved lioness – sitting cross-legged upon her leather beddings and holding her sleeping son in her arms. All the other members of the pride were sitting around the Queen, keeping her company and admiring the newborn prince, but once their Alpha walked into, the crowd spread across the room making space for the King to pass and approach his Queen. Mufasa wrapped his arms around his wife, Sarabi rested her head upon his chest and the two overjoyed parents gazed full of love at their dear child. Simba was a perfect-looking human baby, – all the werelions were born humans and their animal side was coming into surface later in life –, with flawless skin and beautiful facial characteristics. The only sign of his lion side was his eyes, two orangish brown gems which one day would turn to fiery glowing red – the color of an Alpha, the same color that Mufasa's eyes had. Sarabi placed a kiss upon Simba's forehead, the little cub woke up and stared back at his parents. Rafiki approached the happy family and knelled before them so as to have a better look at Simba – the little fellow titled his head staring at the druid and Rafiki gave him a smile – and start the established custom of the presentation day.

He would perform a ritual which would acknowledge Simba as a part of the pride, a royal, a future King and the Alpha werelion. Rafiki started making circles with his cane above Simba's head, and as the cane was moving, the three sacred spheres which were attached to the tip began to dance around, – something which made the little one stretch his tiny arms in an attempt to catch them –, symbolizing the sun, the moon and the stars giving their blessing to the young prince. Afterwards, Rafiki cracked a blood-red fruit open, dipped his fingers inside its thick crimson liquid and painted Simba's forehead. The red paint was a symbol of blood and blood was the symbol of warriors and predators; consequently the symbol of the werelions' race, and the red mark upon Simba's forehead meant that he would become a great warrior one day. Ending, the druid took a handful of earthly ash and threw it all over Simba's face, acknowledging him as the future ruler of this land. The ash tickled the little one's nose, causing him to let out an adorable weak sneezing sound that made his parents chuckle. Now that the ritual was over, Rafiki removed Simba from Sarabi's loving arms, carefully took him into his own and carried him outside accompanied by the King, the Queen and Zazu.

The royal couple stood at a point of the sharp-edged Rock from where all of their subjects could see and worship them, and the bird-man took his rightful place, as the King's faithful, left from Mufasa. Rafiki passed them and walked all the way to the very pointed edge of the Rock and when he reached it, he held Simba in his hands and raised him high above his head. The ecstatic crowd bursts out in loud cheers which fill the air and echo at every inch of the Pride Lands, as they encounter the face of their new prince. Their adoration is expressed in the form of rejoiced howls, screams of delight and excited clatters that where causing the earth to shake; and even though Simba is only a baby cub, his curious eyes are captivating every second of this amazing image.

And then it happened. The clouds departed only above Simba's head and a heavenly light came down from the skies and washed over the young prince. A divine miracle, a phenomenon of pure magic. A sign omening something important. All creatures stared in awe at the marvelous sight and then bowed before their prince.

And just like that, Simba's place in the circle of life has been formalized and sealed. His journey has begun and is predicted to be a great one.

LATER THAT DAY

The naive rat made the fatal mistake to finally come out from its hiding spot. It didn't even have time to blink – let alone run away – before the keen and cunning predator manages to capture it in his hand and cage it with his claws.

The specific predator is not a common werelion. His name is Scar, he is a royal and the brother of King Mufasa. He once was a Beta, he was close with his family and he was one of the possible successors to the throne. Even though Scar had the sharpest mind and a respectful amount of strength and power, he never used them for good. He was always mischievous, troubled, unstable and, in his extreme moments, vicious, while Mufasa was virtual. He was wise, brave, the strongest and most powerful of all werelions, always made the right choices and knew what was the best for himself and for the ones around him – so of course he was the best choice for a King. But Scar thought otherwise, he believed he was the one who deserved to be a King and he was furious that Mufasa was the one chosen. That fury soon turned into passionate jealousy, which lead him to envious, reckless and rebellious actions that eventually made his family and his people think of him as a bad seed. Mufasa knew he had to do something in order to punish and discipline his brother, so he degraded him to an Omega. But Mufasa wasn't cruel. Even though he gave Scar the life of the pride's unwanted outcast he did not take his family right. He remained a royal, he could interact with his family and still had all the obligations going with – and unsurprisingly he was still in line for the throne – in hope that one day he would come to his senses and repent for his past mistakes.

But obviously that day hadn't come yet because there he is right now; with his honor tainted, living alone in the lower levels of the Pride Rock, forced to feed of the bones and leftovers from the pride's meal or the rats that are hiding in the chasms on the wall – both of which options are barely enough to satisfy his hunger. As the time was passing by, the misery and envy that had occupied his soul only grew stronger, feeding the evil inside of him which eventually took over and consumed his heart and soul. He feels nothing anymore rather than greed and hatred, his only desire, ambition and concern is to take revenge upon his brother and the pride who wronged him and become the King. But that won't be an easy task to accomplish especially now that the little filth, Simba, has come to the picture. Taking what he wants most might seems impossible at the moment, but Scar is smart and determined to find a way to make it happen.

Scar catches the unfortunate rodent from its tail and picks it up from the ground. The werelion enjoys taunting his prey before he devours it, so he lets it struggle in order to free itself from his grip but it's hopeless. Scar's claws have now become a prison for the poor little animal.

"Life it's not fair, is it?" said Scar with his voice full of grievance, addressing both to the rat and himself. "You see I...well I shall never be King". He looses his grip a little bit and the rat starts running upon his fingers. Scar laughs at the rodent as it jumps of the tip of his fingers and he catches it while it is in the air. "And you...shall never see the light of another day. Hmm-hmm-hmm, adieu " he mocks. He opens his mouth widely and lets the rat hanging over his bared teeth.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" an irritating throaty voice echoed and it didn't take long for Scar to understand to whom it belonged to. He turned around and saw Zazu standing in front of him, wearing a ceremonial cyan clamys, his arms crossed in front of his chest in a censorious way and with that reproving look on his face that always get on Scar's nerves. His appetite was lost in seconds.

The werelion scoffed. "What do you want?" he said. He was in no mood to hear that annoying fowl's preaching. Zazu tilted his head, slightly smiled and took a small bow. "I'm here to announce that King Mufasa is on his way" he said using his formal voice and then he was back on scolding Scar with his look. "You better have a good excuse for missing the ceremony this morning". _That explains the formal dress,_ thought Scar. He was so indifferent to Simba that the ceremony didn't even cross his mind. Mufasa would be down right mad at him but that wouldn't bother him. He couldn't care less about what his brother thought.

 _Or...maybe it would be better to care._ _Maybe he should start playing nice to his brother._ That way he would start trusting him again. That's it! What a better way to destroy someone than getting close to him and learning his weaknesses? If he could approach Mufasa enough to catch him off guard he could make him fall right into his doom.

Lost as he was in his thoughts, he unwittingly loosed his grasp on the rat, resulting on the little animal running away and hiding back in one of the holes in the wall. "Oh Zazu you just made me lose my lunch" said Scar with a fake pitiful voice. "Ha! You'll lose more than that when he gets to you. He is as mad as a hormonal werewolf during full moon time" said Zazu.

Scar's look turned sinister and he bared his teeth once again. "Oh I quiver with fear" he hissed and started walking menacingly towards Zazu. He had enough of that stupid bird, and since his meal had run away, he decided to grab a bite out of something else. Zazu took a few cautious steps back. "Come on now Scar, don't look at me that way..." he mumbled with his voice trembling from terror. He quickly shifted to a bird and tried to fly away from the danger but his attempt was in vain. "Help!" he half-croaked/half-cried before the werelion captures him with his mouth and close him between his jaws.

"Scar" Mufasa's angry growl hit Scar's ears. He tried to say something but his mouth was full so the only thing that came out was a purr. "Drop him" Mufasa demanded. Zazu's beak popped out of Scar's mouth and said: "Impeccable timing your majesty". Scar spat Zazu out of his mouth and the bird-man looked full of disgust at his spittle-covered wings. Even and when he shifted back to a man, his clothes and his hair were filled with saliva.

"Why! If it isn't my big brother descending from on high to mingle with the commoners" said Scar sarcastically while walking around, disdaining the presence of his brother. Mufasa was standing straight and tall, and even though his face was emotionless, a small spark of anger was burning in his eyes.

By looking at the two brothers, you could see that it wasn't just their personalities who differ. Mufasa had wheaten skin, brownish golden hair, strong body and face structure and fiery red eyes while Scar's hair were as black as the night, his skin too tanned from the too much exposure to the sun, his body slightly slimmed from the lack of food and his eyes had the wicked green color of all Omega had (the color of the eyes was a common change when a werelion was moving from one place to another). Also Scar had one big battle scar across his left eye from the first time he ever got into a fight – and won – when he was still a kid (it was such a significant feature that was named after it, his birth name has been long forgotten). At first sight, you could barely tell they were related. They were as different as day and night.

"Sarabi and I didn't see you at the presentation of Simba" said Mufasa sharply. "That was today? Oh, I feel simply awful" the last word didn't sound very clearly cause Scar scratched the stony wall with his claws, something which made Zazu grind his teeth. Even the thought of apologizing for something he had no intension regretting, sickened Scar. "Must have slipped my mind" he tried to justify himself.

"Well as slippery as your mind is, as the King's brother _you_ should have been first in line!" said Zazu bringing his face close to Scar's so as look more intimidating. Scar threated Zazu with bitting him, smiled wickedly at the bird-man and Zazu hid behind Mufasa for protection. "I _was_ first in line till that little brat-kitten was born" Scar growled at the bird-man. Mufasa got between Scar and Zazu, forcing his brother to look him in the eye and meet his unwavering, flaming death glare. "That little _brat-kitten_ is my son. And _your_ future King" his words were sharp like blades and serious as the law itself. If anyone else dared to get into a fight with Mufasa would have been crushed by the King's powerful and imposing personality. A reasonable being wouldn't even think to test his boundaries in the first place, but Scar wasn't from the reasonable ones. "Oh, I shall have to practice my curtsy" he quipped, made a sarcastic gesture and turned around, heading to the cave's exit. "Don't turn your back on me Scar!" Mufasa commanded. "Oh Mufasa, maybe _you_ shouldn't turn your back on _me_ " said Scar without any hesitation.

That was the last drop, the striking nail upon Mufasa's nerves. The angry werelion let out a loud roar and with one super-speedy move he got in front of Scar. "Is that a challenge?" he growled, exposing two rows of sharp teeth and pairs of fangs. Scar changed his attitude and tried to look respectful and maybe a little intimidated, there was no use in causing his brother's rage. "Temper, temper. I wouldn't dream of challenging you" he said in his most sincere voice. Zazu popped out from behind Mufasa and gave a skeptical glare at Scar. "Pity. Why not?" he said. Scar raised his eyes on the bird-man. "Because as far as brains are concerned, I got the lion's share. But when it comes to brute strength" he now glares enviously at Mufasa but he quickly gets rid of his hostility – if he wants to get close to the King, the best approach is to earn his sympathy. "I suppose I'm the shallow one in the gene pool" he said, passing by the two men and exiting the cave, with a doleful expression on his face.

Zazu let's out a sigh when Scar leaves the cave. "There's one in every family sire. Two in mine, actually" he grinned. "And they always manage to ruin special occasions" he said giving Mufasa a friendly pat on the shoulder. Mufasa shook his head skeptically while gazing at the horizon, as if he was expecting for a sign which would help him understand his brother. "What am I going to do with him?" said Mufasa and the torment in his voice was real. Zazu thought of it for a second. "He'd make a very handsome throw rug" he proposed with a wide smirk spreading across his face. "Zazu!" Mufasa said surprised, but couldn't help himself from laughing at the idea. "And just think, Whenever he gets dirty you can take him out and beat him" said Zazu and both of them laughed.

And after saying those words, the King and the counselor, head back to their homes laughing. The intensity of the previous moments have already start to fade.

LATER THAT NIGHT

Tonight the rain is pouring heavy as waterfalls, overflowing the rivers and the streams and making the hot, scorching ground of the Pride Lands to steam. It is almost midnight and every creature in the grassland is peacefully sleeping. Everyone except one curtain druid.

Rafiki is busy tonight. He is obligated to complete one final task that is required to be done on the presentation day. On the outskirts of the Pride Lands, at the place where the race of druids lives, there is a tree, (a humongous thing, as old as time and tall till the sky), called the Tree of Life. Every time a new creature was born, it was a druid's job to draw a picture of him on the Tree of Life and upon the trunk of this tree his life story would be written. And that's exactly what Rafiki is doing at the moment for the newest arrival.

A couple of brushes there, some color on the hair and eyes, the light brush of a finger to create some shades on the cheekbones and the angles of the face, and it was ready. The picture of a young boy with dirty blond hair, glowing orangish brown eyes, slightly tanned reflection and a slimmed yet muscled body. The boy he is gonna become. _Simba._


	2. The Young Prince

**Author's note: First of all I wanna thank all my readers so far. Hope you all liked the first chapter and I'd like to apologize for taking me so long to upload the second one. Just trying to make something good for all of you guys to read. ;-) Enjoy and stay tuned cause there are more to come! 3**

11 YEARS LATER

The dawn had barely cracked but Simba was already up. He was too excited to sleep, he wanted the day to start as quick as possible – and thanks to his energetic nature and the werelion genes that provided him with hyper-endurance, he could go without sleep for days. Instead, he was sitting on a rock, outside the grand cave in which his pride was resting, and gazing at the horizon. He was waiting for the sun to rise. His father had promised to give him a special tour of the Pride Lands and show him the vastness of the kingdom of Saeva through the top of the Pride Rock before the today's training section. They were about to climb on the top at the time the sun was coming up, so Simba had stayed up all night waiting for the first sunshine to appear. When its yellow glow scratched the blue surface of the sky like a golden blade, Simba quickly got off the rock and rushed into the cave. _It's time!_

Mufasa was sleeping next to Sarabi on an elevated and smooth spot of the floor, over a pile of beddings made of prey's fleeces. His bared chest was steadily coming up and down, his tawny hair were covering his forehead and eyes and his lips were parted in a form of snoring. "Dad, come on! We gotta go! Wake up!" Simba cried but Mufasa did not move a muscle. Simba grinned, he started tiptoeing and hoping over the sleeping fellow members of the pride, – whispering a "sorry" every time he was stepping on someone –, until he reached his parents. "Dad! Dad!" he kept crying over and over again, growing more persistent with a every new call, but Mufasa was a hell of a heavy sleeper. "Your son is awake" Sarabi whispered softly without opening her eyes. "Before sunrise, he is _your_ son" Mufasa mumbled. Simba snorted and he lightly kicked his father in the ribs. "Dad. Come on dad" he said through his clenched teeth. One stronger kick and Mufasa finally got up, a half-opened eye stared at Simba through the curtain of hair covering his dad's face. "You promised" said Simba giving him a judgmental glare. "Okay. I'm up, I'm up" said Mufasa in a reassuring way, even though his voice was still heavy from the sleep. A wide and bright smile flashed on Simba's face, he mumbled a "yes" and rushed outside. Mufasa stood up and let out a yawn which echoed in the cave as a roar.

Simba was so full of excitement that he couldn't stand still in one place while he was waiting for his dad to come out. Mufasa exited the grand cave with Sarabi on his side, who wanted to greet her two favorite men before they leave. She and Mufasa exchanged a tender kiss and the loving mother hugged Simba and played with his hair. Her son gave her a smile as a good-bye and then he and his father started walking up the granite trail that lead to the top of the Pride Rock.

The sun seemed to rise higher with every step closer to the end of the trail, painting the ground and plants beneath him with beautiful shades of yellow, orange and red, and when they reached the top of the Rock, father and son stood near the brink and gazed at the grandeur of their kingdom. From that point they could see everything: every area of green, every vein of water running through the scorching and hard skin of the ground, every mountain, hill and the seas beyond them and every creature who inhabits the Pride Lands. And over the seas and the mountains they could catch a glimpse of the rest of the wonders Saeva had to offer: the Werewolf Mounts, the Werecougar Forests and the Vampire Catacombs in the west, the Centaur Glades in the north, the Weredragon Fields and the Kitsunes Village in the east and the Wild Cats Territories (weretigers, werecheetahs, werejaguars, wereleopards and many other shape-shifters of the same kind) in the south, not to far from the Pride Rock. _They were standing_ _in the heart_ _of the world!_ While Mufasa was looking with satisfaction and pride at his fascinating kingdom, Simba was in awe of the sight before him. His mouth had dropped open in an expression of astonishment, his eyes had widened, fully impressed and hungry to take all in and his enchanted mind couldn't believe that the heavens had offered him such a marvelous gift. Mufasa noticed his son amazement and smiled.

Looking at the two of them, father and son, standing there side by side, you could see the similarities between them. Both of them had an identical shade of brownish golden in their hair and manes, – although Simba's had changed to a dirty blond shade after the countless hours he'd spent in the dirt during his training –, identical facial characteristics and bone structure, they were both wearing the dark leather-made, armor like, outfit that all the males of the pride wear – actually, because of the too much heat of the grassland they were wearing only half of the outfit, the trousers, while their chest and feet remained bared – and both had the same look of strength and determination in their eyes. Many are saying that Simba is a "mini version of his father" and that is the greatest compliment they could do to him! Simba looks up to his father, he adores him, idolizes him. Mufasa is a natural leader, a warrior with undeniable power, a ruler loved and worshiped by his people and dreaded by all his enemies; Simba felt grateful to be even half a King his father is and the only thing he wants is to one day become an even better one.

"Look Simba" said his father, pulling him out from his thoughts. "Everything the light touches is _our_ kingdom" Mufasa spread his arm and passed it over the land. Simba let out an exclamation of awe. "A King's time as ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, Simba, the sun will set on my time here" said Mufasa, his voice was deep and solemn, his expression serious, and yet Simba could sense a light sadness hidden behind his words – the sadness his father felt in the idea that one day he would have to leave him forever, that he would have to watch him from the far beyond. "and will rise with you as the new king". Mufasa placed his hand upon Simba's shoulder, in a gesture of showing how proud he was for him. He gave him a light warm smile, when Simba turned his look away from the Pride Lands to meet his father's gaze. "And this will all be mine?" Simba asked, still unable to believe it. "Everything. From the snow-covered mountain tops of the Werebear Woods to the dry plains of the Werecoyote Dessert" Mufasa assured him.

Simba started walking around, expanding his field of vision and exploring the Pride Lands with his eyes. "Everything the light touches" he murmured to himself, thinking of his future and how it would be like to rule over all these places. The idea of becoming the King of Saeva both excited and scared him; he wanted to be a good – if not a great – monarch for whom his pride and his people would be proud of, but in the same time he was afraid that he could never escape his father's shadow. Being the successor of such a charismatic King as Mufasa, was intimidating, but Simba had the will, the wits and the bravery to try and win his place upon that same pedestal. _He'd learned from the best, after all._

Simba's attention was caught instantly by something odd: a location on the outskirts of the Pride Lands that the sunlight couldn't reach. It wasn't because something was shadowing it or anything like that, it seemed to be darkened and bleak by its nature. A bad feeling passed right through Simba's body as he was looking at that place, as if there was something...evil in there. "What about that shadowy place?" he asked. Mufasa came closer to his son and his face became a mask of repulsion and scorn at the sight of the mysterious dark place. "That's beyond our borders. A place of demonic magic, inhabited by villainous abominations. You must never go there Simba" he said sharply and strictly.

"But I thought a King can do whatever he wants" said Simba as it was the simplest thing in the world. Mufasa smiled at his son's naivety. "Oh there's more to being King than getting your way all the time" he said. "There's more?" Simba joked, pretending to be surprised. Mufasa chuckled. "Simba..." he mumbled.

* * *

"Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance. As King, you need to understand that balance and respect all the creatures, from the ant crawling on the earth to the leaping antelope, and from the humble druid to the splendid weredragon dominating the skies above" Mufasa's voice was echoing in Simba's ears as they were traversing the grassland. They'd left the Pride Rock behind them and now they were heading to their favorite place in the Pride Lands for Simba's training sections. As they were walking by, Simba caught with the corner of his eye the forms of weretigers hunting gazelles and werecheetahs drinking water from a nearby puddle – when the two royals passed next to them, the werecheetahs stopped what they were doing and bowed. "But dad, don't we eat the antelope?" said Simba.

"Yes, Simba, but let me explain. When we die, our bodies become the grass, and the antelope eat the grass. And so we are all connected in the great Circle of Life" said Mufasa.

"We are connected...We are equal. We are one" Simba whispered, having consolidate the meaning behind his father's words. "Exactly" said Mufasa with a wide smile.

After a couple more minutes of walking they finally arrived at their training spot. Both of them loved this place because it was isolated, peaceful and with ideal conditions for a young werelion to be trained at the art of battle. "And now that you have learned a couple of things more about how to rule a kingdom, let's teach you a few about how to defend it as well" said Mufasa and took position of attack, with his bared claws protruding from his finger tips, long, sharp and deadly. The King isn't messing around here, when it comes to his son's education he is deadly serious and he doesn't hesitate to use extreme measures in order to teach him in the best way.

Simba smirked. "I'll try not to give you a hard time" he mocked, stood opposite his father and took position of defense – when he opened his fist, his own claws had come out, looking like small daggers. The kid surely has the self-esteem that befits a King. Mufasa laughed loudly before performing his first move. He tried to hit Simba's face with his claws but Simba caught his hand in the air before it could touch him, unfortunately for the young werelion that was only a distraction for his opponent to swing his leg around his shanks, resulting to Simba falling on his back against the hard ground. He groaned as Mufasa held him down with his strong and heavy as iron fist. "Remember my son: the clever lion roars victorious, while the arrogant one ends up squealing in defeat" his father said and the corner of his lips twitched in a wide smile of satisfaction. Mufasa freed him from his grip and helped him stand up. Simba's expression when he got back on his feet was a mix of anger, understanding and broken ego. "C'mon let's give it another shot. And this time use the muscle in your head along with the ones in your body" said Mufasa and Simba nodded in understanding.

The two werelions started fighting, performing masterful swings, claw-punches and kicks, flips and maneuvers. The two opponents seemed to be equal – Mufasa was strong, imposing, pompous and more experienced but Simba was rapid, limber, with deep knowledge of his rival's fighting style and a fast learner – but soon the young prince made a reckless mistake at one of his moves and he ended up on the ground again.

"Excellent performance young master" a deep, throaty and wise voice echoed as a bird with blue plumage came down from the sky and shifted to a man. "I might not be an expert in the art of war but I'm pretty sure it's easier to win if you are not with your face against the dirt".

"Hey Zazu" said Simba as he was getting up, half-smiling. "Good morning young master. Sire" he addressed to Simba's father with the most respectful way, slightly bowed and tilted his head in a form of greeting. "Good morning Zazu" Mufasa responded. Besides the two of them, Zazu was the only other soul in this world who knew about the existence of this training spot. They had to let him know because Zazu had to be able to find the King at any time in order to update him about the current state of things or alarm him about an important new development. "While I'm talking to Zazu, you keep practicing the maneuvers I've shown to you and we'll continue together later. Okay?" Mufasa whispered at his son's ear and the last one nodded affirmatively as a response. "Checking in with the morning report." said Zazu. "Fire away!" Mufasa pretended to be enthusiastic.

Simba wasn't in the mood to pay attention, he always got bored every time he listened to the bird-man report in excruciating detailed way the daily events. It wasn't because he was indifferent to what was happening in the kingdom – quite the opposite actually – but because there were very few times that there was actually something crucial and important going on. During Mufasa's entire reign, everything worked in peace and harmony, the people prosper and the acts of violence and criminality have been lessened. Although they've been some recent attacks from the werehyenas' side (wicked, sneaky and immoral creatures, corrupted by evil forces of magic and mortal enemies of the werelions), they've been considered as another hopeless attempt of these filthy barbarians to protest against the status quo. In conclusion, Simba's didn't see any worth to care about meaningless things – that and the fact that he found Zazu's voice like a thousand spikes of boredom picking on his nerves.

So he decided to use his time constructively as his dad had advised him. He started working on his fighting and hunting moves, performing back claw-kicks, high claw-punches and complex maneuvers till he reached perfection in every swing and movement. But his stubbornness was craving a bigger challenge, urging him to try something harder, and when his eye caught the form of a praying mantis jumping from the one rock to the next with high speed and flexibility, he knew he had found his new challenge. He was going and try a hunting technique that he'd been struggling with for the past weeks, it wasn't perfected yet but Simba had the strong feeling that if he used it on a creature as fast and small as the praying mantis it wouldn't take him long till he actually pulls it off.

Simba falls on all fours, keeping his balance by standing on the tips of his toes and the edges of his claws, taking the position of an actual lion ready to attach his prey and tear it apart. His eyes sparkle and his fangs are bared – he is shifting, it happens to every werelion when he faces a condition of adrenaline. He takes one deep breath, gets ready and pounces on the unsuspecting prey but, unfortunately for him, the little bug is too quick and manages to escape the threat of Simba's grasp. The young werelion looks astonished for a moment but he quickly recovers. He takes position and pounces again but the mantis gets away again. Simba growls, nervy as he is, and gives it one more try. His pride doesn't let him give up even when the prey gets away once again, looking as if he is mocking the prince.

The sound of Simba's angry growls distracts Mufasa from Zazu's recounting of a new peace treaty between the werewolves and the vampires of the west. Mufasa turned around and saw his son jumping here and there like a maniac – something which actually made him laugh a little bit. Thankfully Zazu was too preoccupied with his report that he did not noticed Mufasa moving a little further away. Sometimes the dedicated bird-man could get so carried away by his job that he wasn't paying any attention to what was going on around him.

Mufasa approached the struggling hunter at the moment he landed on a rock after he had performed another attempt to catch that stupid little bug. "What are you doing son?" he asked him with a light smile on his face. "Pouncing" Simba responded with a grin. He opened his hands expecting to see the mantis to lying between them, but when he faced his empty palms he snorted in disappointment. "Let an old pro show you how it's done" said Mufasa. The corners of his mouth twitched in a mischievous smile and he nodded towards Zazu's direction who was now mumbling something about reduced herbs for hunting at the Werecoyote Dessert. Simba got the point and winked at his dad as a reply.

"Zazu would you turn around?" it sounded as a kind command but Mufasa's smirky face implied something far from fun. "Yes sire" Zazu exclaimed and he turned their back on them – as simple as that. Simba smiled, Zazu was a far easier target even than an insect: an unmoving, careless, non-threating being. While the bird-man continued minding his own business, Mufasa was whispering at Simba how to do a perfect pounce, guaranteed to succeed. "Stay low to the ground" he pressed his hand upon Simba's back and the last one did as told. He came one with the grass and the earth, camouflaging himself so as he wouldn't borne in on. "Yeah, okay. Stay low to the ground, right? Yeah" Simba whispered back. Zazu turned around a little bit and stared at them confused and surprised at the same time. "What's going on?" the bird-man asked. "A pouncing lesson" said Mufasa as it was the most normal thing in the world. "Oh very good. Pouncing...POUNCING!" Zazu cried out, suddenly filled with anxiety and terror. "Oh no sire. You can't be serious..." he pleaded. Mufasa drew a circle with his finger in the air, indicating to look the other way again, and Zazu obeyed cause he simply couldn't do otherwise. "This is so humiliating" Zazu complained whisperly. "Do not make a sound" Mufasa whispered at Simba's ear. The young werelion was ready in position, hidden from the eyes of the prey and the only thing he had to do now was to leap. The element of surprise is the key to success.

"What are you telling him, Mufasa?" Zazu snapped, but once he turned around to look, the two werelions were nowhere to be found. It looked as if they had vanished to the thin air. "Mufasa? Simba?" he stuttered but got no response. The feeling of someone's body hitting him in the back and of his weight pulling him down caught the bird-man by surprise. Zazu fell down, face on the earth and Simba standing on top of him, holding him down with all four of his limbs. Mufasa bursts out in loud laughters once Simba catches his 'prey' and the young prince has now a huge winner's smile decorating his face. "That's very good" said Mufasa still trying to hold back his laughter. Simba got off of Zazu and went by his dad's side. Zazu stood up, cleaned up his clothes from the dirt and the wrinkles and started swearing from the inside. He was about to scold both of them for their behavior but then something happened. His super-sense of hearing caught something alarming: voices, growls and hazard happening all around. The werehyenas were attacking the Pride Lands! He had to warn the King!

Mufasa had spread his arm around his little boy's shoulders and they've been talking about what to do next, but all their joy flew away once Zazu's voice echoed. "Sire! Werehyenas in the Pride Lands!" he cried out. Mufasa's face turned into a mask of fury and battle's tense and his arm fell off from Simba's shoulders. "Zazu, take Simba home" he demanded. "Oh dad, can't I come?" Simba requested. "No son" Mufasa's answer was sharp, strict and final. The King instantly shifted to a grand, majestic and supreme lion with golden mane, sharp claws and fangs and fiery red eyes and took off.

Simba snorted. "I never get to go anywhere" he complained. How was his father expecting him to lead a kingdom and fight foes when he didn't even let him wander by himself. "Oh young master, one day, you'll be King" Zazu's warm voice tried to calm down his nerves. "Then you can chase those slobbering, mangy, stupid, poachers from dawn until dusk". The wise and kind bird-man placed his hand upon Simba's shoulder in a reassuring way and then they shifted, heading back to Pride Rock the one fellow as a lion running through the grassland and the second as a bird flying in the sky.


	3. The Graveyard of The Giant Beasts

Scar was walking in circles inside his cave with a frown on his face, when Simba rushed in. "Hey uncle Scar, guess what!" Simba's cheerful voice broke the dead silence of the cave and upset Scar. "I despise guessing games" the moody werelion grumbled, he picked up a bone from the ground and threw it with nerve to the other side of the room. "I'm gonna be King of Saeva" Simba flaunted but his uncle did not share his enthusiasm. If only the naive young prince knew how Scar was seething with rage in the thought that one day the little punk would ascent to the throne. _His throne._ "Oh goody" Scar mumbled sarcastically. "My dad just showed me the whole kingdom. And I'm gonna rule it all" he sang as he was gazing at the Pride Lands from the opening of the cave. "Yes. Well, forgive me for not leaping for joy. Bad back, you know" Scar quipped and to give emphasis to his words, he pretended to collapse. He fell on his side, with his back turned to Simba.

Simba came and lied next to his uncle, facing now the back of his head. The child was very fond of his uncle so his peculiar behavior did not bother him, he actually found him exciting and impressive at times. Simba was known about having a wild, independent and rebellious side of his own so he and Scar had developed a special bond over the years. Scar had become the only member of the royal family to whom Simba could speak without any inhibitions. He had shared with him things that he hadn't even told his father. He used to tell his uncle about all the troubles he was getting himself into just because it was fun, all the messes he was causing from time to time when he wanted to let off some steam or the anarchist actions he did to relieve himself from the overwhelming pressure of being _the prince_. And Scar never judged him, never scolded him or expected him to be perfect as the rest of the pride did; instead they were having a lot of laughs! Simba was feeling comfortable to be himself around his uncle.

And Scar was thanking his lucky star for his nephew's gullibility. Earning Simba's trust was part of his plan to steal the throne and have his revenge. By becoming one of Simba's most reliable friends was the perfect and easiest way to get close to his brother and ultimately destroy him. Mufasa had noticed how close nephew and uncle had grown and interpreted it as a sign that Scar had changed. Of course Scar did not let the chance slip right through his fingers and he played the part. He pretended he had regretted his past mistakes and Mufasa put him back into his life and the royals' circles as well. Scar might had the nature – the eye colour – of an Omega but at least he had the social class of a royal Beta, so now was the perfect moment for him to strike. He had reached the right position so now the only thing he needed was the right manoeuvre which would earn him the victory. And what a better way to ruin someone than take away from him what he loves most?

"Hey uncle Scar, when I'm King, what will that make you?" said Simba while messing around by playing with Scar's black hair. "A monkey's uncle" Scar snapped but Simba thought his uncle was joking so he laughed. "You're so weird" he said. Scar turned around and met Simba's gaze. "You have no idea" he mumbled and stood back to his feet. He approached the opening of the cave and gazed at the Pride Lands as Simba did earlier.

"So, your father showed you the whole kingdom, did he?" he asked. "Everything" Simba confirmed. "He didn't show you what's beyond that rise at the northern border?" Scar cared to know. Simba frowned. "Well, no. He said I can't go there" he said dejectedly. "And he's absolutely right! It's far too dangerous. Only the bravest go there" said Scar in the most serious way he could. A spark ignited in Simba's eyes once he heard these words, they triggered his curiosity and his hunger for danger. "Well, I'm brave" said Simba with an over-confident grin on his face. "What's out there?". It sounded as a request but it was a demand, the reckless, rebellious young prince seemed to have just found his next adventure.

"No, I'm sorry, Simba, I just _can't_ tell you" Scar lied and moved away from the opening. He would be glad to throw this little brat-kit into the land of darkness himself but he had to play the part of the caring uncle for the moment.

"Why not?" Simba whimpered and went by his uncle's side. He'd never expected that Scar would doubt his strength and courage.

"Simba, Simba, I'm only looking out for the well-being of my favorite nephew" another lie flew right through Scar's lips but Simba cared too much for him to understand the difference. Scar played with Simba's hair and caressed his cheek to make it more convincing – declarations of affection sickened him but it had to be done.

"Yeah, right. I'm your only nephew" said Simba with a smile as Scar's hand touched his cheek and after a moment fell down. He couldn't get mad at his uncle for wanting to take care of him, after all they were family. He would do the same if the roles were reverse.

"All the more reason for me to be protective. The Graveyard of Giant Beasts is no place for a young prince" Scar let this information escape his lips on purpose. He wanted to intrigue Simba's curiosity to the maximum so as he would be unable to resist temptation. "Oops!" he exclaimed and covered his mouth with his hand.

Simba gasped in amazement and excitement. "The Graveyard of Giant Beasts?! Whoa! I thought this place was a myth!" he exclaimed.

Scar brought his palm to his forehead in a gesture of feigned regret. "Oh, dear, I've said too much!" he said and let his hand fall off. "Well, I suppose you'd have found out sooner or later, you being so clever and all" Scar flattered his nephew. Simba's eyes were shinning with determination and bravado, he made a step away from his uncle ready to leave, but Scar gripped him by the shoulders and trapped him to a suffocating embrace that was nothing but loving. "Just promise me you'll never visit that dreadful place!" said Scar while holding Simba's chin in his hand, making him look directly in the eyes when he would give him his answer. "No problem!" said Simba with a smile but Scar could see he was lying through his teeth. "There's a good lad. You run along now and have fun" said Scar and freed Simba from his grip. He tapped him on the back and the little werelion rushed to the exit of the cave, but he stopped and looked back once Scar called him one last time. "And remember... its our little secret" he whispered playfully. Simba nodded in agreement and then shifted, running out and away from Scar's cave. _The bait is set, now we wait for the target to shallow it._

Simba is running with full speed and his heart pounding like a drum in his chest from the rush. That is gonna be the greatest adventure will ever have! His father wants him to become a brave and powerful warrior, a ruler of experience and knowledge of his world, isn't that right? Well...now was his chance to become all these things. But it won't be the same if he experiences it alone. He needs his comrade!

* * *

Simba left the Pride Rock and now was heading to one of the pride's private places in the Lands: the lake where the kids were going for swim every day and the lionesses were spending their mornings before they go off for hunting – they might are lions but their human side still needs to cool and clean itself. He crossed the grassland till he reached the place with the high granite bleachers were the leather-dressed werelionesses were relaxing upon, the low trees which were providing shade and the big puddle of clear water in which a bunch of kids were swimming. Once he got to the lake, he shifted back into human and started looking for Nala. He finally found her sitting by the lakeside while her mother, Sarafina, was making her wet blond hair into a braid. Simba's mother was lying on the rock beside them and was chatting with Sarafina.

Nala is the most important person in Simba's life after his family. Her parents have been close friends to his for ages so the two of them had spent their entire lifetime together. They have the same age, they grew together and with the years they developed a strong rock-solid friendship, an enviable and unbreakable bond. But they are more than friends; they are comrades, partners in crime and one each other's most confidant. Nala and Simba tell each other everything, from their darkest fears and insecurities to their hidden secrets and dreams. They trust each other completely – something which makes it easier for Simba to drag Nala along to all the crazy situations he was getting himself into. But she never had an issue with that, she was a wild, hazard-loving and adventurous troublemaker herself and she would gladly follow Simba to the end of the world if she had to. They have the time of their lives every time they are together, so of course Simba isn't gonna keep her out from the real deal of fun!

Simba greets his mother and then goes to sit next to his friend. "Hey, Nala" he says and the girl turns around to look at him. "Hi, Simba" she says with a warm and delighted smile spreading across her face. Simba leaned close to her ear and whispered: "Come on, I just heard about this great place". Nala grinned. "Simba, I'm kinda in the middle of something here" she says through gritted teeth, and to give emphasis on that, her head flipped backwards as Sarafina tightened her braid. "You sir ain't going anywhere if you don't take a bath first" Simba was caught by surprise when he heard his mother's commanding voice speaking. She must heard him with her heightened sense of hearing. _Darn it!_ Simba swears with his inner voice and puts on an irritated grin. He turns around and faces his mother – her flawless skin glows under the sunlight, her red-blond hair make her dark leather-made top and skirt look like black stones under the sun, and her fiery red eyes sparkle with energy. Sarabi was a woman and lioness of extraordinary beauty and even though she was at her late thirties it hadn't fade at all. One of the main reasons why Mufasa had fallen for her and chose her to be his Queen. "Mom! No!" Simba protests. "You know that I hate when water is messing up my mane" the excuse obviously did not work because Nala laughed sarcastically and Sarabi gave him one of her famous judgemental looks. Simba frowned, got up and dived into the water. The small wave he raised splashed the three werelionesses.

The boy stayed into the water for a couple of seconds and then returned to the surface. He gets out of the lake with heavy movements, because his wet leather outfit feels like pitch sticking on his skin, and shakes his head and body to dry himself. Sarabi slightly laughed with her son's wet cat performance. "There. I'm clean. Can we go now?" he says.

"So where are we going? It better not be anyplace dumb" Nala says with a jeering grimace. "No, it's really cool!" Simba whispered at her. Unfortunately for him, Sarabi's keen ears heard that too. "So where is this really _cool_ place?" she says with a suspicious voice. Simba grins again, this time from nerves. He doesn't want their mothers to find out they are up to one of their schemes again because then they will forbid them to go. "Oh..." he thought of it for a moment, trying to find the best possible answer. "around the waterhole" he finally said, pretending to be excited. "The waterhole?" Nala exclaimed shocked and disappointed. "What's so great about the waterhole?" she grumbled. Simba forced a fake smile to seem as if he had nothing to hide and leaned close to Nala's face. "I'll _show_ you when we _get_ there" he muttered and gave her his most intense look. Nala got the point and her expression softened. "Oh..." she whispered. She smiled and turned at Sarafina. "Mom, can I go with Simba?" she kindly requested. Her mother put the last touches on Nala's braid and let it fall to her back. Sarafina pressed her lips together. "Hmm, what do you think Sarabi?" she says. "Well..." Sarabi is skeptical so she hesitates. Simba and Nala stand before the Queen, pleading her with their eyes. "Please!" they say synchronized with forced teeth-filled grins on their faces.

"It's alright with me" says Sarabi, giving them one of her warmest smiles. "Yeah!" Simba cries out. "All right!" Nala exclaims. Both kids cheer and jump up and down with joy. They are about to leave when Sarabi's voice makes them stop instantly. "As long as Zazu goes with you" the Queen's words make all of their fun and joy fly away. "No, not Zazu!" Simba complained but he knew it was hopeless. His mother word was law and if they wanted to go even close to the Graveyard they had to deal with it.

* * *

"Step lively. The sooner we get to the waterhole, the sooner we can leave" said Zazu to Simba and Nala before he shifts to a bird. He was asked to escort the kids to the waterhole and, as always, he was more than happy to fulfil his Queen wishes. He leads the way from the sky while Nala and Simba preferred to remain to their human form for the trip. They said they didn't want to shift yet.

Simba loved this wise, severe and goofy bird like he was family, but it bugged him that he had to follow him wherever he was going. The young werelion boy craved his independence and he couldn't have it with Zazu watching him over and breathing on his neck all the time.

Nala makes sure that Zazu is far enough and he isn't paying any attention to them before speaking. "So where are we really going?" she whispered so as only Simba can hear her. "To the Graveyard of The Giant Beasts" Simba whispers back. "Wow!" Nala accidentally lets out a loud exclamation and Simba hushes her. "Shhhh! Zazu" he hisses whisperingly. "Right. So how are we going to ditch the dodo this time?" she mocks and nods at the blue bird above their heads. Simba whispers that they will find a way to get rid of him, as always, they just need to think.

Zazu looks down at the two kids and his beak twitches to a smile. They make a beautiful sight as they are sweet talking – or at least that's what they seem to be doing – and smiling to each other. No one that had ever met them could deny the deep love and affection they feel for each other. Their relationship is something rare. They are two souls connected by something more than just friendship. They have understanding and chemistry; the one can't exist without the other. The only thing that gets in the way is that they are too young to admit it – even to themselves. But Zazu is old enough, mature and experienced at these kind of things. He can see that they will make a great royal couple one day. The bird-man performs a tailspin and lands in front of Nala and Simba. He shifts back to human and his hearty smile reaches his ears. "Just look at you two. Little seeds of romance blossoming in the grassland. Your parents will be _thrilled_ , what with your being betrothed and all" he says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Only issue is that neither Simba nor Nala have any idea of what he is talking about. "Be-what?" says Simba with an ignorant look. "Betrothed. Intended. Affianced." Zazu explains but the two friends still look totally confused. "Meaning...?" Nala mumbled. "One day, you two, are going to be married" says Zazu expecting them to be excited with the news. But instead of that, grossed-out grins appeared on the faces of Simba and Nala and disgusted sounds escaped their mouths. To their children's minds the idea of love and marriage is something odd and repulsive, while friendship is a simple and fun thing. They can't imagine exchanging the one for the other.

"I can't marry her. She's my friend" says Simba. But, at the same time, a little voice on the back of his head says otherwise. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to wed his best friend. Nala is the most amazing person he knows, she makes him laugh and feel happy and they always have a great time when they are together. She knows him better than he knows himself, she understands him in a way that no one can't. He trusts her, respects her and deeply cares for her. Honestly, he can't imagine sharing his life with anyone else.

"Yeah. It'd be so weird" says Nala, pulling Simba out of his thoughts. He shuts off the little voice in his head that's trying to change his mind. Marriage is a stupid thing which will only kill their fun. Period. "Well, sorry to bust the old bubble, but you two turtledoves have no choice" Zazu crosses his arms in front of his chest and takes an over-the-top serious expression. "It's a tradition going back generations" he says solemnly and gazes the void, paying a silent tribute to the ones who where there before. Simba mocks Zazu by mouthing his words in a silly way and Nala chuckles.

"Well, when I'm king, that'll be the first thing to go" says Simba and winks at his friend. "Not so long as I'm around" says Zazu.

"Well, in that case, you're fired" says Simba sarcastically but Zazu gives him a contemptuous look. "Hmmm...Nice try, but only the king can do that" he says and pokes Simba's forehead with his finger. "Well, he's the future king" Nala steps in the debate. "Yeah. So you have to do what I tell you" says a haughty Simba and now he is the one poking the older man. "Not yet I don't" an irritated Zazu snaps. The two kids scorn him, pass by him and keep going their way without him. "And with an attitude like that, I'm afraid you're shaping up to be a pretty pathetic king indeed" Zazu snaps again. Simba turns around and a cocky smirk flashes on his face. "Not from where I'm standing".

The boy partly shifts; his facial features change to the ones of a lion, his hair grow to a mane, his eyes glow all sparkling orange and his claws are out. He falls on all fours and walks right onto Zazu in a menacingly way, as if they were predators and prey again. "I'm gonna be a mighty King whose enemies will cower in the sound of his name" he declares and gives a smirky glare at Zazu. He pounces on him but the bird-man steps aside right on time, so Simba just lands on his feet next to his target. "I've never seen a King of beast with quite so little muscles" Zazu taunts the prince. He looks at him from head to toe as if he is measuring him with his eyes – even though Simba was tall and taut for his age, you couldn't exactly call him a 'huge and intimidating beast'. But Zazu's comment did not dismay Simba, it only boosted his self-confidence. "I'm gonna be the most supreme King that has ever lived. I'm brushing up on looking down" he jumps on a rock behind Zazu. "I'm working on my roar!" he says and roars at Zazu's ear. The man groans and falls on his knees, while his one ear goes deaf. The two little werelions chuckle and run away, while Zazu is too busy dealing with the pain that is stinging his eardrum to follow them.

Simba and Nala head for the Graveyard of Giant Beasts but in order to reach the dark side they have to pass through the curtain of the grassland and the most crowded place in the Pride Lands, the Crossroad. When they get there, numerous shifters are wondering around. Some are carrying kills on their shoulders, while others are socializing, chatting with each other or just running around. Plenty of animals have gathered there and are relaxing in the high grass. Simba and Nala make their way through the crowd but once they believe they have got away, the blue bird descents from the skies and Zazu stands before them once again. If looks could actually kill, then both of them would be dead right now because of the furious death glare Zazu is giving them. "And where you think you're going? I remember the road to the waterhole to be the other way" says Zazu interrogatively. Nala bites her lip and Simba looks to the ground to avoid any eye contact with the man. Zazu scoffs. "C'mon you two, we are going back to Pride Rock" says Zazu.

He tries to grip Simba's arm but the boy pulls away too fast. He looks up and meets Zazu's gaze. While the man's eyes have a scolding spark, Simba's are burning with indignation. "Hell no! We don't get to do as you say!" he snaps. He takes Nala by the hand and they walk pass Zazu. "You are still kids! Which means you have to listen to your superiors" Zazu snaps. They stop and Simba turns around. He says: "No, _you_ need to listen to your superiors which in this case it's me. You obey _me_ Zazu not the other way around. _I_ am the prince of Saeva and the future King!". He accidentally said the last part a bit too loud, which resulted to the crowd noticing them. Everyone stared in awe at the werelion prince and his two companions and the whispers started flying in the air. "We have an audience" Nala murmurs whisperingly at Simba's ear. "I can see that" Simba hisses, whisperingly as well.

A spark light up in Nala's eyes – she had an idea! "Maybe we can use it as a distraction to get away from Zazu's eyes" she whispers. "And how are we supposed to do that?" Simba mumbles. "You said it yourself, you are the boss here. I'm sure you can figure something out" she says softly. Simba looks around and a plan takes shape in his mind. A plan to prove himself to Zazu and his people and at the same time to create a diversion for him and Nala to flee in the dark side.

He tried to look as pompous, powerful and imposing as possible – he wanted to saw his people what he was really made of. "And a King doesn't let himself become a submissive of his counsellors, but he takes action on his own. He is not a prude and scared cat that will run and hide once the danger makes his appearance, but a fearless lion that will fight him off!" he says. The whispers now become more excited and the crowd's mood cheers up as the prince's words amaze the civilians of the Pride Lands. "And that's what I'm gonna be when I'm a King. I'm gonna be the champion of everyone in Saeva!" Simba now addresses to his people with a sincere and determined look in his eyes. Mild cheers come out from the crowd and Simba sees it as an encouraging sign to keep talking. "I shall bring honour to my father's legacy, I'll be a noble leader, your breath of fresh air and the warrior who will protect you. And I can't wait to be this King!" once Simba's last word falls down, the gathered shifters bursts out in loud cheers. They clap, throw their fists in the air and sing Simba's name. Simba looks at them filled with pride, takes Nala's hand in his own and raises them in the sky in a gesture of greatness.

Zazu is completely confused and stunned by what's happening. The mob smothers him, knocks him down and trample on him. Through the spaces between the bodies who stumble on him, he sees the civilians picking Simba and Nala up and carrying them in their hands. Their cheers and exclamation of admiration unite in a symphony of rejoice. Zazu tried to get up in order to reach the kids but it was just too difficult for the fading bird-man to push aside all these people. "I'm sorry to bother but get off of me! Simba! Nala!" he cried but no one seemed to hear him. After a while, the two werelions had disappeared from his vision field.

* * *

"All right, it worked" says Simba and smiles widely. The mob let them down and moved on like some yards ago and now the two friends were close to the borders were the light meets the shadows. "We lost him" Nala adds with an equally big smile. Their plan worked perfectly and they lost Zazu back at the Crossroad. "I. Am a genius" Simba lets himself brag. "Hey, genius, it was my idea" Nala hisses with a grin. "Yeah, but _I_ pulled it off" says Simba with a cocky grin. "With _me_ " Nala corrects him, now being the one smirking. "Oh, yeah?" he mocks. He roars and leaps at his friend, both roll on the ground but Nala is the one who ends up on top. That has been a game the two of them had been playing since the first time their parents showed them how to fight: the one attacks the other and they roll on the ground till someone ends up on top. Nala is the one with the winning streak since the day they discovered this game and Simba still hasn't managed to break it.

He looked surprised at first, when Nala pressed him with his back on the ground but then it changed to a grin of annoyance. "Pinned ya!" says Nala and smiles playfully. Simba always found her smile to be beautiful, enchanting in a way. It made him delirious at times. He shook his head and pushed her off of him. "Hey let me up!" he protested and Nala does so. She looks the other way for a moment and smirks, then Simba leaps at her again and they start rolling like stones falling down a hill again. They chuckle as they fall down a cliff and Nala ends up on top of Simba again. "Pinned ya again!" she repeats with her smile wider and more playful.

This time Simba did not push her right away. He gave himself some time to gaze at her. He had never noticed how beautiful she was before. Of course he knew she was attractive and pretty, he wasn't blind, but now he could see that she was _beautiful_! Her long fair braid falling on the side of her face like a rope of gold, her blue eyes are sparkling like sapphires (a Beta female werelion has blue eyes, while a Beta male has brownish golden), her black leather-made top and skirt - the outfit of a Beta female - are an armour that gives her the look of a warrior, while her flawless wheaten skin gives her the face of an angel. Simba was mesmerized.

But so was Nala from the strong, witty, feisty and exciting young prince with the handsome face and fierce eyes who filled her days with joy and made her feel whole. She felt blessed to call him her friend – and had the secret wish that one day he would be her mate and husband. When she objected to the matter of their engagement she was acting because she wanted to be on the same wave length with Simba.

But now that they were alone, lying on the ground, laughing and playing, they couldn't hide their true emotions. Unconsciously, their faces get slowly and steadily closer. Their lips almost collided when a small volcanic eruption scared them and caused them to jump quickly on their feet. The two werelions gave a good look around and realized where they were. The absence of the sunlight, the jagged-looking pieces of granite, the dusty hard ground and the sight of an enormous skull placed before them... _The Graveyard of the Giant Beasts!_


	4. A Hunt of Fire, Steam and Bones

**Alright! Chapter 4! Big thank you to all my readers out there, it means the world to me that there are actually people who like my work! 3 Please feel free to send me a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Stay tuned, this story is not over yet. ;-) (PS I don't own the original Lion King nor its characters and dialogues, all rights go to the original geniuses behind this great masterpiece).**

"This is it. We made it" Simba murmurs as the two friends begin to explore the new-to-them, mysterious and fascinatingly creepy place. The Graveyard of The Giant Beasts was something that they only knew from whispers on the Pride Lands and old urban myths; a place of darkness and death, which was boiling and steaming like it was Hell itself and the remains of the world's biggest and most impressive creatures (from magical beings such as chimeras, phoenixes and giants to large animals, like elephants and rhinos) were buried there. And now they come to find out that everything they've heard about this strange locus didn't even begin to cover it.

There were huge bones – even the smaller of them were bigger than Simba and Nala together, some of them were even bigger than a fully grown human – and skulls of different shapes and sizes wherever they looked. Small eruptions were happening from time to time, making the place as hot as Hell, filling the air with steam and smoke and creating a mystical and gruesome fog. The Graveyard must have been built on an inactive underground volcano, so that's why it had such a paradox climate. Everything in the dark side of the Pride Lands seemed to have faced some terrible disaster which resulted to their current condition. They were saying that these places were close to the entrance of Hell and dark forces had slipped from the abyss, corrupting a small part of the Land. _Just legends and works of the man's fiction or something more? No one can really tell, but in a world full of magic everything it's possible._

The two kids followed the bony road and climbed up on an elevation in order to have a better look of the Graveyard. On top of the elevation there was the enormous skull of an elephant, staring at them with its dead and hollow eyes. The two kids stared in awe at the odd sight but once they witnessed what was lying behind and beyond the skull, their jaws dropped open. Piles and piles of skeletons, bones and decomposing corpses could be seen until there as the eye. A spectacle both extraordinary and scary. "Whoa!" both Simba and Nala exclaimed as their eyes devoured the scenery before them. "It's really creepy" says Nala but she doesn't stop looking – she is too stunned to take her eyes away. "Yeah. Isn't it great?" says Simba with a playful smirk. "We could get in big trouble" Nala warns with a smirk. "I know!" says Simba and chuckles satisfied by the course of events.

The two kids turn their gaze away from the piles of skeletons and look at the gigantic elephant skull behind them. They both have a sly smirk on their faces, so they know they share the same thought. "I wonder if its brains are still in there" Nala declares. They go closer to the entrance of the skull-cave – or in other words, the place where once existed a mouth – and look inside but it's too dark to see anything. "There's only one way to know" says Simba. "Come on, let's go check it out". He is about to enter the skull-cave when a big blue blur gets in his way. Simba takes a few steps back and then the blur becomes clearer; it's a blue bird! _Not just any blue bird!_ Zazu shifts back into a man and glares at the two children.

"Wrong! The only checking out you will do will be to check out of here" the man snaps and pushes Simba further away from the skull-cave's opening. "Oh man!" Simba protests and grins. Zazu looks at his surroundings with a petrified look on his face. "We're way beyond the boundary of the Pride Lands" he says, his terror now being transfered to his voice. Simba laughs at Zazu's warning. "Look Banana Beak is scared" he mocks.

"It's _Mister_ Banana Beak to you, fuzzy" Zazu snaps and pokes the forehead of the uncouth prince with his finger. "and right now we are all in very real danger". No matter how hard Zazu is trying to warn them, Simba isn't willing to listen. At the moment, he feels fearless and untouchable by any kind of hazard. So instead of moving away, he goes even closer to the skull-cave's opening. "Danger?" he scoffs. "I walk on the wild side. I laugh in the face of danger" he taunts in all his haughty glory. To emphasize his words he laughs loudly, but along with the sound of his arrogant laughter, another more squealing and mischievous echoes.

Simba feels like cold water washed over his back as the first wave of fear consumes him. He now feels the presence of danger very clearly and its messing with all his instincts. The laughter gets higher and higher – and more sinister – and the first thing his mind is telling him to do is to run away from it. So he does. He and Nala hide behind Zazu, who is now using his wings-turned-arm as a shield in order to protect them. They stare in terror at the skull-cave and they see three silhouettes coming out and approaching them menacingly. At the beginning, they look like three wild dogs with wicked smiles and glowing yellow eyes, but once they come closer they partly turn to humans. Two men and one woman with ebony hair and pale skin, covered in dirt and dust, with clothes of gray fur and spiky blades. _Werehyenas._

"Well, well Banzai, what have we got here?" says the woman, and her voice is a sly taunt. The one of the men – the one she probably addressed – presses his lips together as if he is thinking about it. "Hmmm I don't know Shenzi" he says. "What do you think Ed?" he now addresses to the other man. The other man – Ed – doesn't talk, only growls and laughs like a madman. "Just what I was thinking. A trio of trespassers!" says Banzai, glaring at the three companions.

"And quite by accident, let me assure you. A simple navigational error" Zazu's trembling voice rushes to explain. He and the kids attempt to escape but Shenzi got in the way of the bird-man. At the same moment, Ed and Banzai trapped the kids, preventing them to flee. "Oh wait, wait" said the woman and pointed with her claw at Zazu's face. "I know you. You're Mufasa's little stooge" she said with a taunting smile. Zazu moved slowly Shenzi's hand away from his face. "I, madam, am the King's right hand" said Zazu, proud of his position.

"And that would make you..." Banzai hissed while looking interrogatively at Simba. "The future King" he said sharply. He put on a strong and brave face for the enemies to see, he wasn't gonna break now. Nala, on the other hand, was shaking next to Simba and her sparkling blue eyes had now been shaded by the cloud of fear. The werehyenas circled the kids and the bird-man and started walking around them in a menacing way, like the hunters do to the powerless prey. "Do you know what we do to Kings who step out of their kingdoms?" Shenzi said it as a question but it was a clear threat. Simba scoffed, he was feeling brave once again. "You can't do anything to me" he snapped.

"Technically they can. We are on their land" said Zazu with a trembling voice again. He tried to contain the prince's temper before something bad happen. Unfortunately his words fell on deaf ears. "But Zazu, you told me they are nothing but slobbering, mangy, stupid, poachers" Simba spits out the wrong kind of words. "Ix-nay on the upid-stay" Zazu mumbled through his teeth. "Who are you calling upid-stay?" Banzai snaps and his angry form steps before the prince the bird-man counselor. The trio uses as an advantage the fact that one of their foes left his position and they get out of the circle of doom. They start stepping backwards, always with their eyes on the enemy. "My, my, my. Look at the sun! It's time to go!" Zazu cries. They start running but the she-hyena performs a super fast move and gets in their way again. "What's the hurry? We'd _love_ you to stick around for dinner" she said with a wicked smile, showing off her bared fangs. These guys ain't kidding about these things. The werehyenas have succumbed to their hunger for flesh so they kill off and eat other shape-shifters even thought it is illegal and immoral – just the tip of the crime iceberg that their species has commit. One of the main reasons why the werelions think of them as a living threat and do everything in their power to stop them.

She started moving menacingly towards our trio and so Zazu used his body as a shield for the kids again. No matter what, it was his duty to protect them. "Yeah. We can have whatever it's _lion_ around!" Banzai jokes and all three werehyenas laugh their lungs out. "Wait, wait, wait, I got one, I got, one!" Shenzi cries as she tries to make herself stop laughing. "I want mine with a _cub_ on top! Whatcha think?" she says and they both start laughing again. Suddenly Ed starts squealing, jumping up and down and pointing at something with his claw. Shenzi stops laughing and pays attention at her friend. "What, Ed? What is it?" she says. Banzai's eyes finally capture what Ed is trying to show them. "Hey, did we order this dinner to go?" he says.

"No, why?" Shenzi answers.

"'CAUSE THERE IT GOES!".

While the werehyenas weren't paying attention, our trio managed to shift and flee the scene as fast as they could go. The two little lions were running through a maze of trails made from bones while Zazu was flying above them. The bird's look was focusing at what existed straight ahead, were safety was supposed to be, so he literally never show it coming when the hyena's claws grabbed his tail and dragged him down to the ground. He struggled to free himself but the hyena had now caught him with its teeth and was dragging him to one of the open crater with the boiling lava.

The two lions kept running until it seemed to them that they had gotten away. They stop for a moment and partly shift in order to speak. "Did we lose 'em?" Nala whispers. "I think so" Simba whispers back. He looked around and up to the sky but no sight of their bird-protector. "Where is Zazu?" His heart was now pounding with fear for the life of his friend.

They heard his caw, his cry for help, and rushed to the rescue. They found him struggling in the claws of the hyenas which were trying to burn him in the lava of a crater. "Hey!" Simba cries at the hyenas in a moment of fury. "Why don't you pick on somebody your own size?" That was all it needed to make them lose their interest on Zazu, but he was already pretty injured and it would take some time for him to heal. _They didn't have time, they had to go now!_ Shenzi partly shifted and gave a nasty, taunting smile at Simba. "Like you?" she says. Simba swallows his bravado and his heart sinked in his chest. "Ooops" he whispered to himself – he hadn't thought this through – before the hyena attacks them. Nala screams and the two lions start running subconsciously away from the face of jeopardy.

The following moments develop in a wild chase between lions and hyenas, in which the two little lions are the prey and the hyenas the hunters. Simba and Nala pass through enormous ribs, they jump above piles of skeletons, they climb up the huge skulls and run through the maze of death. _The Graveyard must end somewhere! There's gotta be a way out of this mess!_ that's the only thought racing in Simba's mind. Suddenly they come across a humongous wall of stones and bones, the two werelions struggle to climb on it with their claws and pass to the other side. Simba is the one forward and he has almost reach the top when he hears Nala crying his name. He turns around and sees her dripping slowly of the wall, her claws are not strong enough to hold her anymore, she is about to fall right in the deadly mouths of the hyenas. He doesn't even think about it when he starts going down the wall in order to save Nala, he just does it. He helps her place her feet on some protruding bones in order to climb back on top and strikes Shenzi's face with his claws once her bared fangs are too close to them. The wounded animal growls viciously and glares with raw rage at the two friends who have just pass to the other side of the barrier.

The lions run through tunnels of stone until they found another wall in their way. Only that this time it's much higher, made of granite and almost impossible to pass by it. A dead end. _So this were it ends_ Simba thinks to himself but they are not ready to give up yet. By using some skeletons against the wall as a stair, they try to reach the top of the wall. Unfortunately for them the decomposed skin and old bones cannot hold them and they collapse. The two friends fall on the hard ground and exclaim in fear as they release they are trapped. With their backs against the wall and the three devilish werehyenas coming their way, the odds seem to have abandon our heroes.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty" Banzai taunts and sharpens his claws against the granite texture of the wall. Just by the look on their faces you can see how hungry they are, how they crave to devour the two cubs, to eat them alive while they hear them scream for mercy. Simba, in a – desperate – last attempt to save his friend and himself, he steps forward, shelters Nala with his body, and roars his heart out. Or...at least that's what he was planning on doing. Since his lion isn't fully grown, his roar sounds more like a hysterically squealing meow. "That was it?" Shenzi mocks and the other two laugh at him – every taunting laughter feels like kicks in the stomach for Simba. "Do it again. C'mon" the she-hyena dares the prince and he accepts the challenge.

He sucks one deep breath, lets the roar rise from his lungs to his chest and come out from his mouth with full power. He puts his heart and soul to this one small action and in the end he is rewarded because a magnificent roar, louder than a thunderstorm and intimidating enough to scare the crap out of these wild dogs echoes all over the place. Simba should be glad that he made his foes look in complete terror at him but he doesn't. _He knows that this roar didn't come out of him._

It came out of the one that their enemies are actually, completely and undeniably afraid of. The powerful and supreme Alpha lion with the brownish golden mane, the body with the muscles of steal, the deadliest teeth and the sharpest claws in all Saeva. _Dad!_ Simba screams inside his head when the King appears from nowhere and attacks on the werehyenas with all his passionate fury. He roars and growls, making the earth quake. He punches the hyenas with his iron paws, he hits them hard and throws them to the walls like they weight nothing. His claws and fangs find their plaid flesh and cut it deep, leaving bleeding marks on the wild dogs' hips. Even though the werehyenas were more in numbers, Mufasa is much stronger and bigger than any of them so it is easy for him to subdue them.

Simba and Nala are dumbfounded by what they see. _How did he find us?_ Simba thinks to himself and at the same moment – as if the universe was giving him an answer – Zazu landed next to him in his bird form. Their gazes meet, Zazu's beady black eyes are filled with concern and it seems like they are asking Simba if he's okay. The prince nods a 'yes' while his petrified orange eyes tell otherwise.

The Alpha lion has brought the werehyenas down and is standing above them victorious. Mufasa partly shifts back to a human – leaving only his glowing eyes, claws and fangs visible – so as his foes can look at the face of their King and acknowledge who owns the real power. "Please, please. Don't hurt us" the hyenas desperately beg for mercy.

"Silence!" Mufasa snaps and all three of them tremble from fear before his feet. "We are gonna shut up right now" Banzai mumbles. "Calm down. We are really sorry" Shenzi murmurs. Their voices are pathetic pleading sounds, coming from the mouths of coward criminals, at Mufasa's ears. "If you ever come near my son again..." he growls, his face a wild mask of pure rage and hunger for blood. The hyenas pretend to be surprised and unaware of the fact that the little cub they were after a few moments ago was the King's son – the last resort in an attempt to save their skins. Mufasa decides to spares the three curs. He roars loudly and the werehyenas get the hell out of there. Simba and Nala are finally safe.

Zazu flies to the side of his master and nods as a form of praise, but Mufasa gives a death glare at his servant that makes the little bird cower. Simba and Nala are very cautious when they face the King. Simba approaches his father and attempts to speak. "Dad, I...".

"You deliberately disobeyed me" says Mufasa sharply. The disappointment in his glare is like a blade right through Simba's heart. He doesn't know what to say to justify his actions, he had no idea things would turn out this way, he meant no harm for anyone. He couldn't even look his father in the eye. "Dad, I'm...I'm sorry" he finally forces the words to come out of his mouth but they are not enough to fix what had be done. _"_ Let's go home" Mufasa says sharply, turns his back and walks away. Zazu follows the King, but turns around one last time to look at Simba. At first he feels sorry for his young master but soon his look becomes the same as Simba's father. The prince had never felt this kind of disapproval before. _He had never put himself – or the people close to him – In such great jeopardy before._

"I thought you were very brave" says Nala. Even though she didn't show any particular emotion, Simba could sense something bitter in her voice.

* * *

What our heroes didn't know was that they weren't alone at the tunnel. Hidden in the shadows, the angel of death, the messenger of disaster and the one true enemy was watching the events. _Scar._ He was the one who sent the werehyenas after Simba and was now cursing both Heaven and Hell for the failure of his plan. _Just a small obstacle_ the scheming werelion thought to himself. _I can't let it stop me. I just have to try again and this time make sure I won't miss._


	5. Fate Is Written In The Stars

The night is slowly laying her veil of darkness upon the Pride Lands. The light pink shade of the sunset is fading to a deep blue coming from the east, the grass seems black instead of green and everywhere you look, you find peace and quiet. And as the sunlight fades away, so does the light of happiness inside Simba's heart.

During the entire journey back home he remained silent and kept his head down, drowning himself in the shame and the guilts. He was feeling so broken that he couldn't even walk right, his feet seemed to crawl, he was dragging them in order to take the steps. Nala was glancing at him from time to time, – he knows it, he can feel her shimmering blue gaze on his back –, so was Zazu, but he doesn't have the strength to face them. He doesn't know what his penalty will be, but he knows he deserves it. He really messed up this time and now he is ready to pay the prise. _Why didn't I listen to the warnings? I'm such an idiot!_ his inner voice was shouting. He should expect to cross paths with werehyenas at the Graveyard, the dark side of the Pride Lands is the lair of all kinds of criminals and outcasts. He had ignored it, he let it slip his mind. Back then he was feeling dauntless, but only because he had never tasted danger in his purest form. Now he had, and he would never be the shame again.

After hours of walking, they stop at last. Simba finally convinces himself to look up but he doesn't see the Pride Rock anywhere near. Mufasa had lead them to an isolated glade, and judging by his cold and serious posture there was only one reason why he did that. _I'm ready to be punished_ Simba thought to himself but that did not stop his heart from beating like a drum. "Zazu" Mufasa's harsh voice summons the bird-man. He lands in front of the King's feet and shifts. "Yes sire" says Zazu with a trembling voice. Even though he is a full-grown man, he looks small and intimidated before Mufasa. "Take Nala home" the King orders. "I've got to teach my son a lesson" he tilts his head and his sharp fiery red eyes find Simba's face. The little prince feels the icy touch of fear going down his spine and the only thing he wishes for is the earth to open up and shallow him.

Zazu approaches the two kids. "Come Nala" he states and then turns to Simba. He kneels before the boy and places his hands tenderly upon his shoulders, the man's look soft, carrying and sympathetic. "Simba" he sighs. "Good luck" these two words are the only thing he says before he and Nala take off. The boy gazes at them with pain-filled eyes as they leave him alone with his father. Nala glances at him one last time, her eyes hide no anger or disappointment. She is just sad for him.

"Simba!" Mufasa summons his son with a loud cry and Simba walks towards his father slowly and steadily. Suddenly, in one of his steps, he feels the dirt strange underneath his foot. He looks down and sees he is standing inside his father's footprint. He can't help it but appreciate the irony. Mufasa's footprints are so much bigger than Simba's and yet the young prince is rushing to step on them. He can't walk on his father's steps yet. He is just a boy not a man, a cub not a lion. He has to let himself grow and evolve in his time. That was his mistake, not the ambition nor even the stubbornness. He was so eager to become his father that he rushed into things he wasn't ready for yet. At least something good came out of this mess, he became self-aware.

He stood by his father with his head slightly lowered and a disgraced expression covering his face. Mufasa shakes his head disapprovingly and says sharply: "Simba, I'm very disappointed in you".

"I know" says the boy weakly.

"You could have been killed" Mufasa continues with a steady voice. "You deliberately disobeyed me and what's worse, you put Nala in danger". Simba finds it hard to breath, each word is like a hit in the chest. He gasps and fights back the waves of tears that are rising behind his eyes. "I was just trying to be brave, like you" he whimpers. "I'm only brave when I have to be" says Mufasa with a lighter tone. "Simba, being brave doesn't mean you go looking for trouble". His voice isn't scolding, it's more compassionate. Simba looks up to his father's eyes and says sadly: "But you're not scared of anything".

Mufasa now understands why his son was acting like this. He wasn't asking for trouble, he just wanted to become braver and stronger. _He wanted to become like him._ His look is now vulnerable and soft, he isn't a King or a warrior he is just a father worrying about his child. "I was today" he says.

"You were?" says Simba.

"Yes" says Mufasa and their gazes meet. He lowers to the height of Simba in order for the boy to look him directly in the eye when he says: "I thought I might lose you". Simba felt the pieces of his soul coming back together, his mind is now at ease and he doesn't have to fear if his dad is mad at him anymore. "I guess even Kings get scare, huh?" he says with a light smile. Mufasa nods in agreement.

"But you know what?".

"What?"

"I think those werehyenas were even scareder" he jokes with a smirk. Mufasa laughs loudly and smirks too. "'Cause nobody messes with your dad" he says, and before Simba can move a muscle he has capture him in his arms and is rubbing playfully his fist on his hair. "Come here you!".

"No! No!" Simba laughs but struggles to get away. Once he is free they start chasing each other and fight in a silly way like funny cats. And so father and son begin to play. "Gotcha!" Simba exclaims as he pounces on his dad's back and they both fall down. They laugh their lungs out as they roll on the grass. They both end up with their backs against the ground and try to catch their breath since the laughters and the game exhausted them. "Dad" says Simba and Mufasa makes a "um-hmm" sound. "We're pals, right?".

"Right" Mufasa reassures him with a big and sincere smile. "And we'll always be together, right?" Simba's innocent childish mind makes a lovely and ideal thought. "Simba, let me tell you something that my father told me" says his dad with a soft and warm way. "Look at the stars" he turns his gaze to the sky and Simba does the same. It's so beautiful tonight, like a black-blue blanket covered in precious sparkling jewels. "The great Kings of the past, look down on us from those stars" says Mufasa solemnly. "Really?" says Simba.

"Yes. So whenever you feel alone, just remember that those Kings will always be there to guide you" says Mufasa. Their gazes have now been captivated by the beauty of the night sky. Simba imagines the stars as the glimmering eyes of the Kings who protect them from the great beyond and his heart is filled with solemn. He just thinks all of the souls who now rest up there, all the great rulers who now watch through the heavens' eye and send their wisdom to the next generations. "And so will I" Mufasa makes a great promise.

* * *

The evil spirits occupying the dark side of the Pride Lands weren't happy. It could be seen in the smoke coming from the chasms in the ground. Both the river of lava flowing underneath the granite and the steam were green, indicating that the spirits were in an ill mood. They were expecting to take their pound of flesh and the failure of Shenzi, Ed and Banzai had upset them. And the spirits weren't the only one.

"Man, that lousy Mufasa. I won't be able to sit for a week" Banzai's nagging echoes through the stone walls of the den. He had taken a pretty nice bruised and claw-marked left thigh as a souvenir from the fight with Mufasa, which was taking quite long time to heal, and is now starting to get on his nerves. Ed starts laughing as he watches Banzai's struggle to sit down. The latter glares at the other and growls.

"It's not funny, Ed" he groans. Ed can't control himself and bursts out into loud laughters. That hyena always had a problem controlling his urges and since he went mad a couple of years ago – devilish magic overdose – laughing, growling and howling were the only things that could come out of his mouth. He was more an animal now than a human. "Hey, shut up!" Banzai shouts at Ed but he ain't stopping. Banzai growls, and despite his wounded thigh, he pounces at Ed and the two hyenas start fighting with claws and teeth like the wild dogs they are.

Shenzi is sitting on a high rock a few yards away and rasping her claws with one of her blades. She glares extremely irritated at the two curs chasing each other's tails and roll her eyes reprovingly. "Will you knock it off?" she shouts and to emphasize her words she throws her blade at them. The two men immediately stop fooling around...well Banzai actually, Ed needs his time to understand what's going on. "Well, he started it" Banzai complains and points at Ed, who is chewing his leg at the moment believing that he is still fighting with someone else.

"Look at you guys. No wonder why we're dangling at the bottom of the food chain" says Shenzi angrily while jumping off her seat. "Man, I hate dangling" Banzai complains while some drooling slips from the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? If it weren't for those werelions, we'd be runnin' the joint" says Shenzi with a grin. "Man, I hate werelions!" Banzai snaps.

"So pushy"

"And hairy"

"And stinky"

"And man are they..."

"UGLY" Shenzi and Banzai sing together the last line in a mocking way and then burst in laughter – laughing with their one jokes again – but their amusement time is suddenly interrupted by the sound of a voice that intimidates each and every single one of the werehyena pack. "Surely we werelions are not all that bad" the three werehyenas look up and see the man behind the voice. Black hair, green eyes and a haughty look of supremacy. Scar comes out of the green fog like a malicious phantom. He is casually sitting on the most elevated rock and looks down on his three minions.

Scar brought the werehyenas under his commands a long time ago, the day Mufasa officially welcomed him back to the family – and signed up for his undoing. Scar used the werehyena's constant and unsatisfied hunger for flesh as a leverage to control them. He promised to bring them kills in order to feet themselves and put their stomachs at ease and in return they would wreak havoc to the kingdom. He was offering them a deal they couldn't say 'no' to – food and the opportunity to make the life of the people they hated difficult. Scar's orders were the ones behind the recent waves of destruction that the werehyenas had caused. Thanks to him, the wild dogs' pack had regained her power.

All three werehyenas made a 'phew' sound and awkwardly chuckled. "Scar. It's just you" says Banzai. "We were afraid it was somebody important" Shenzi jokes. "Yeah you know, like Mufasa" Banzai adds. "I see" says Scar with a grin.

"Now that's power!" says Banzai in a first-seen way of admiration towards the King's person. "Tell me about it. I just hear the name and I shudder" Shenzi declares. Banzai speaks the name and Shenzi _does_ shudders. She asks him to do it again and he says the name again, resulting to Shenzi's hair standing up like spikes. That happens three more times – during this time Ed is rolling on the floor from the too much laughing. "It tingles me" says Shenzi with a shaky voice. Scar grins and places his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "I'm surrounded by idiots" he mumbles complainingly.

"Now, you, Scar, I mean you're one of us. I mean, you're our pal" says Banzai. He is fooling himself without knowing it. Scar doesn't need friends, he needs allies and the power they can bring to him. But the werehyenas are a pretty gullible and naive species. "Charmed" says Scar contemptuously. "I like that. He's not King, but he's still so proper" says Shenzi in a way of respect and fancy.

"Yeah. Hey, did you bring us anything to eat, Scar, old buddy, old pal? Huh? Did ya, did ya, did ya?" Banzai pleads and Scar grins in disappointment. "I don't think you really deserve this" he says as he pulls out a chopped off zebra leg. The three hyenas start jumping up and down in excitement, with their tongues hanging out of their mouths and rivers of drools dripping from their lips in anticipation of the first bite of fresh meat. "I practically gift-wrapped those kids for you, and you couldn't even dispose _them_ " says Scar and turns away his look, scorning the worthless creatures. He drops the piece of meat and the hyenas begin to devour it. "You know, it's not like they were alone, Scar" says Shenzi with a mouthful of zebra. "Yeah. What were we supposed to do?" Banzai adds between chewing the meat in his mouth. He shallows his food and says with a clearer voice: "Kill Mufasa?".

A twisted spark ignites inside Scar's eyes at that suggestion. "Precisely" he says with a wicked smile. His three minions stop eating up the kill and give him a confused look. In a blink of the werehyenas' yellow eyes, Scar has jumped off his rock-seat with a feline manoeuvre and is about to land _right_ _on_ them but the trio moves away just in time. The devious schemer starts walking up and down with a sceptical expression on his face and he mumbles: "Yes. I can see how I can make it happen. But will my crude and plain servants be able to pull this off? Maybe...I can see that they have plenty of potentials if they follow my brilliant vision and do exactly as I say" the trio goes closer in order to hear what Scar has in his mind. "THIS IS IT!" the werelion exclaims in a burst of triumph, scaring the life out of his minions with the high volume of his voice and making them fly to opposite sides of the room. Scar ignores them and keep wondering around. "Pay attention my little mindless friends. The words I'm about to tell are a matter of pride" says Scar in a way of authority. The trio gathers up around him, anticipating to listen to their leader's important announcement.

"It's clear from your vacant expressions, the lights are not all on upstairs" Scar mocks with a scornful grin, while looking at Ed whose gaze is lost in the void. "But we are talking kings and successions here!" Scar turns his attention on Shenzi and Banzai laughing in the corner. "Even _you_ can't be caught unawares" he says and pounces before them, giving them another scare attack. He laughs in satisfaction of his minions inferiority and continues his haughty shenanigans. "Be prepared for the chance of a lifetime. Be prepared for the greatest news. An era of greatness for all of us is on the horizon" he says.

"And where do we feature?" says Shenzi.

"Just listen to teacher" says Scar in a cunning way and tweaks Shenzi's cheek tauntingly. The woman grins and rubs her sore cheek. Scar walks on a straight line with his expression serious and determined. "I know it sounds sordid, but make no mistake, you will be rewarded" he climbs upon an elevated rock as so he can look down on the werehyenas and feel his delusions of grandeur more close to reality "when at last I am given my dues and serve my own kind of justice to the ones who wronged me. So be prepared!" he sings.

"Yeah be prepared, we'll be prepared...But for what?" says Banzai.

"For the death of the King!" Scar declares with mighty determination.

"Why is that?" Banzai asks naively.

"We're going to kill him, you fool. And Simba too" says Scar, his green eyes exposing his malevolent desire and the corner of his lips twitched to a sadistic smile. He had never considered the idea of ending Mufasa's life until now. His original plan was to make him suffer, take away everything he cared about – the kingdom's prosperity, his son – and slowly lead him to his demise. But that new idea would be far more efficient and the time couldn't be more beneficial. By killing both the King and the direct heir in once, he would take the throne for good and no one could do anything to prevent him from becoming the King this time.

"Great idea! Who needs a King?" Shenzi exclaims rejoiced and all three of them begin to cheer and dance around like happy dogs. "Idiots! There will be a King!" Scar snaps angrily. "Hey, but you said..." Banzai mumbles. " _I_ will be King! Stick with me and you'll never go hungry again!" Scar is the embodiment of power when he speaks those words, a nature that earned him the ultimate admiration and loyalty from the werehyenas. "Yay! Alright! Long live the King!" both Banzai and Shenzi cheered louder than ever. Soon, more voices united with theirs as the rest of the wild dogs' pack is coming out of the shadows and their hiding spots, worshipping and cheering for their future King. "Long live the King! Long live the King!" they sing.

Scar looked with satisfaction at the madding mob. "Of course," the cheers paused when he spoke again "quid pro quo, you're expected to take curtain duties on board" he draws a line with his finger across his throat indicating the kind of 'duties' he wants them to fulfil. The werehyenas smile deviously since the idea of killing it's not only something they are comfortable with but also something that they enjoy very much. "The future is littered with unlimited prizes for all of us, my friends. But keep this in your small and empty mind, I'm the main addressee! Understood? If _I_ don't get what _I_ want then neither will you. You won't get a sniff of the kills without me!" he sharply proclaims and the mob nods in understanding – they don't have any other choice after all, they must agree with his every order or else they will lose everything. "Perfect" says Scar deeply satisfied by this proof of submission. "Now prepare yourselves for the coup of the century" he adds and the crowd bursts out in excited exclamations again. "For the murkiest scam" the cheers go louder. "The plan has been meticulous put together. Tenacity is now spanning. And after decades of living in disgrace, I'll finally be King. Undisputed, respected, saluted and seen for the wonder I am" Scar flaunts while the mob continues to worshipfully shout for him. He addresses to his minions one last time. "Bare your teeth and ambitions, guys. And be prepared for what's coming".


	6. Long Live The King

It was around noon. Simba's training section with his dad had ended hours ago but the boy had stayed longer at their secret place and spent hours practising his fighting and hunting techniques on his own. After the werehyenas' incident, the young prince had taken his preparation very seriously and he had been intensively training ever since in order to be ready for the future fights. He still hadn't talked to Nala, they were avoiding each other after that day in the Graveyard and that was killing him. Before that unintended mistake, they couldn't spend a day apart, and yet, they hadn't spoken in a week. He really had started to fear that Nala was never going to forgive him, he was her confidant and after that one dreadful twist of fate he might had lost her forever. Thankfully he can distract himself by channelling all his negative emotions into his fighting moves.

Simba was on his way home from the private overtime training section when Scar found him. Scar told him that Mufasa was preparing something wonderful for his son and had asked him to keep Simba company until the right time comes. The news excited the boy, who was in a desperate need for something to cheer him up, and so he believed his uncle's words. Scar took Simba to the gorge, (a scorching and arid place to the eastern side of the Pride Lands), claiming that Mufasa had instructed him to do so. In the centre of it they find a rock with a tree leaning over it, providing shade. Superficially, it seems like a nice place to rest, when it actually is the spot where the shooting dug is left and waits for its death to come. "Now you wait here. Your father has a _marvellous_ surprise for you" says Scar and Simba climbs upon the rock. _And there it goes the shooting duck._ " Oooh. What is it?" Simba asks. "If I told you, it wouldn't _be_ a surprise, now would it?" Scar replies with a grin. "If you tell me, I'll still _act_ surprised" says Simba with a slight smirk. "Ho ho ho. You are such a naughty boy!" Scar quips and playfully nudges Simba. The boy hanged on his uncle and shook him lightly. "Come on, uncle Scar" he pleaded for informations but Scar had nothing more to say. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no. This is just for you and your daddy. You know, a sort of...father-son...thing" he says trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice. Simba frowns and crosses his arms in front of his chest in a protesting way. "Well! I'd better go get him" says Scar, forcing himself to sound joyful and turned around.

"I'll go with you" says Simba. He makes a step forward but Scar stops him abruptly. "No!" he accidentally snaps, frightening Simba, but once he realizes his error he regains his composure. "Heh heh heh. No. Just stay on this rock" he says calmly this time and Simba obeys. He – unwillingly – sits down on the rock and frowns again. "You wouldn't want to end up in another mess like you did with the werehyenas".

Simba's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. His uncle's words caught him completely off guard and left him dumbfounded! "You know about that?" he exclaims. "Simba, Simba, everybody knows about that" Scar mumbles through his teeth. Simba feels his heart sinking in his chest and a wave of cold sweat washes over his back. "Really?" he whispers with his head lowered and his eyes reflecting the embarrassment that was eating up his insides. As if disappointing the people who had the greatest expectations for him wasn't enough of a torment, now the entire kingdom knew about his failure. His humiliation had passed to a level worse than he could think of and took lengths greater than what he could control. _But how did_ _anyone else_ _learn about the werehyenas' incident?_ _Did Nala or even his dad ha spilled the beans? The wouldn't do such thing, right?_ Simba wonders worryingly.

His uncle's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "Oh, yes. Lucky, daddy was there to save you, eh?" Scar's bitter and sarcastic words tease Simba. He leans close to him and spreads his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Oh, and just between us, you might want to work on that little roar of yours. Hmm?" he whispers at Simba's ear. The boy sighs. "Oh, okay" Simba mumbles weakly. Scar gives him a light smile before pulling off his arm and moving away. "Hey, Uncle Scar, will I like this surprise?" Simba shouts and Scar turns around to look at him. The young prince's eyes are shinning with hope.

"Simba, it's to _die_ for!" he simply states before leaving the unsuspecting child behind him. He wasn't joking on that. Not even in his wildest dreams, could Simba imagine that he was standing in the middle of a perfectly elaborate trap designed by his beloved ingenious uncle. _How easily people let their guard down to the people they love._ Scar sinisterly smiled at himself, satisfied on the thought of the stupid little brat-kit and his disgustingly moral, so called charismatic, power-thief of a brother finally getting out of his way. He would have no antagonists any more and he would have finally prove that he was better than Mufasa, he would prove that all his bravery and all his fairness didn't save him in the end from the claws of death. Scar would beat him, he wouldn't have to live in the shadow of his perfect brother any more and would run the kingdom of Saeva the way it should have been run; with an iron paw of ruthlessness. At last he would come out of the darkness and shine gloriously as the most ferocious and powerful King that has ever existed.

* * *

At the same time, a few yards over the gorge, a herd of wildebeest is peacefully grazing. Beautiful animals, – with a tasty flesh too –, kind and harmless as well. Except if you try to hurt them, then they are not so innocent. If you find yourself underneath their hooves of wrath, be prepared to be hammered with excruciating pain. Yes, being stumbled by these creatures is a painful processes but not lethal, any shifter's healing ability would immediately kick in and cure the injuries. _Th_ _at's_ _about to change._ And this task has been assigned to Shenzi, Ed and Banzai to fulfil it. The trio is hiding in a plain sight, in the shade of a stone arch, waiting for the right time to attack at the herd. Scar planned every detail of this scheme very carefully and his orders were clear and strict. The three werehyenas have poisoned their teeth and claws with demonic essence and they are supposed to attack on the wildebeests. That way the will infect them and turn them into Nightmares (demons with the form of a horse whose affect can strip any shifter off his strength and healing power, ultimately cause their death) and later force them to rampage towards the gorge were Simba is. In the meantime, Scar will use Simba's jeopardizing place to lure Mufasa to the gorge and kill them both.

Banzai's belly is purring like an angry beast – his hunger grows stronger when he is close to fresh meat. "Shut up!" Shenzi snaps. Banzai frowns and holds his aching stomach. "I can't help it. I'm so hungry! I got have one of these wildebeest!" he says and jumps up, his eyes a madly starving glare and his teeth bared with drooling dripping off them as he stares at the beating-hearted sacks of fresh meat and blood. "Stay put" Shenzi orders him sharply, her grip clenches Banzai's collarbone and bring him down. "Can't I just pick off one of the little sick ones?" he complaints with a grin. "No!" says Shenzi sharply. "We wait for the signal from Scar". Banzai frowned and returned at his place.

And in that moment they see him. Their leader, the black-haired werelion with the imposing and intimidating posture and the vicious smile crafted on his face standing on the edge of the opposite cliff, like the proclaimer of death himself. "There he is. Let's go" says Shenzi and they march.

* * *

"'Little roar'" Simba scoffs. He knows his roar isn't great – yet – but the comment still stings. But, unlike other failures, he could do something to fix this. When the corner of his eye catches the presence of a little iguana walking by him, he partly shifts and roars. The sound of his roar is weak, squealing and the iguana hardly notices it. Simba tries again but the result is the same again. _Come on. Come on!_ his inner voice pushes him to try harder. He takes one deep breath, lets the roar to rise from his lungs to his chest and when he exhales it, he does it fiercely and determinedly. And the third time is his lucky one, because not only he scared off the iguana but his roar echoed through the façades of the gorge, loud and impressive. Simba smiled satisfied with his success.

Unfortunately his joy doesn't last for long. His smile quickly fades away when the echo of his roar is being replaced by the one of gallops. Simba felt the earth under his feet shaking, like glass ready to break, and the shuddering feeling of fear consumed him. Crows croak, Simba unconsciously glances the other way and sees a huge dark moving wave coming from the top of the gorge, raising a fog of dust in its way. But it's not a wave, it's a herd of wildebeests rushing towards him in full speed. But something seems wrong with these animals; their flesh and eyes have the colour of a pitch black night, smoke is coming out from their nares, they look furious and freaky and a dark aura surrounds them. Simba feels the blood in his veins turning into ice, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open as he stares astonished at the deadly tsunami of darkened bodies and dust coming his way, ready to devour him. He quickly shakes off his fear and recovers. He instinctively shifts and starts running as fast as his paws can take him.

The Nightmares-now-wildebeests frantically chase the little lion as if his demise it's the only reason for their existence. The forces of darkness have devour the poor creatures' souls and now command them to destroy the prince at any cost. And along with the horde of the Nightmares, run the three werehyenas, infecting with their devilish plague every being that might got away from their fangs the first time. Once the last Nightmare of the horde has been stormed into the gorge, the evil trio stands on top of the granite façades and watch as the prince Simba runs for his life.

* * *

Zazu slightly nudges Mufasa on the shoulder and points at the gorge. "Oh. Look, sire, the herd is on the move" he says. Mufasa turns his gaze at the direction that Zazu indicated and his eyes narrowed. "Odd" he states.

"Mufasa, quick!" Scar's voice caught both men by surprise. They turned around and saw him standing there, trying to catch his breath, with a petrified look on his face as if something horrible happened. "Stampede in the gorge" he said worryingly and desperately and then paused. The next words that come out of his mouth felt like the cold steal knives of fear tearing apart Mufasa's soul. "Simba's down there!".

"Simba?!" Mufasa exclaims, as the world starts falling into pieces around him.

* * *

Simba hadn't stop running and yet he still hadn't got away from the dark wildebeests. They were coming closer and closer, they had surrounded him, locked him in a moving cage, and the threat of being crushed is spreading its arm and is ready to catch him. But before it succeeds, the little lion finds an instrument of salvation; a thin and leafless tree in the middle of the path, it might is old and fragile but it's also Simba's only hope. So the little lion channels all his strength and climbs with his claws on top of the tree. His plan is to stay up there until the herd goes away, but every time a wildebeest passes by the tree it trembles and leans. _He won't make it till then._

The golden lion and the dark-maned one are running through the plains areas of the Pride Lands faster than the wind, while the blue bird is guiding them from the sky. Zazu arrives at the gorge before Mufasa and Scar and searches for Simba through the ravage. He finally finds him hanging on the top of a tree that was ready collapse. He approached him and the little lion squealed for help, pleading his friend to save him. Zazu partly shifted in order to speak. "Your father is on his way. Hold on!" he said trying to allay him. He flew away in a rush and headed towards Mufasa and Scar.

The two lion brothers arrived at the gorge. They partly shifted and stood on a point of the façade from which they could have a better view. Mufasa's eyes were anxiously scavenging the gorge for his son, trying to look behind the clouds of dust and the moving bodies of wildebeests which were blocking him. A croak echoed over his head, he glanced up and saw Zazu flying over his head. "There! There on that tree!" Zazu exclaimed and pointed with his wing at the crumblable tree from which Simba was gripping. "Hold on, Simba!" Mufasa cried out, wanting to give his son courage. A wildebeest stumbled on the root of the tree and it cracked. Simba dangled and cried out for his dad. Mufasa instinctively shifted back to a lion and started jumping off the rocky elevations until he reached the ground. He carefully zig-zagged between the dark animals, in his desperate, hopeless and practically impossible attempt to reach Simba.

"Oh, Scar, this awful! What do we do? What do we do?" Zazu exclaims in a panicked outburst but Scar grins scornfully. "I'll go back for help, that's what I'll do" but before he can perform another hovering, Scar hits him hard on the back of the head resulting on Zazu losing his consciousness.

Mufasa spots Simba through the chaos. He runs and maneuvers through the mass of black animals but his movement doesn't have his usual grace. Suddenly he feels weakened as if something is draining the power of his muscles. A wildebeest jumps over his head and its hooves hit him on the skull, shoving him down. He struggles to get up and shakes his head, recovering his consciousness. His blurry vision catches the image of a wildebeest colliding with the trunk of the tree that Simba is on and breaking it into half. Simba flings to the air and cries out in agony. Mufasa feels no weakness any more, the fear that he might lose his child gives him all the energy he needs. He pounces high in the air and catches Simba in his mouth, gripping him with his jaws. The great lion carries his cub as he runs through this maze of limbs and skin, only now he is looking for a way out.

Scar is moving against the wall and watches the scene like a blood-thirsty, maleficent hawk. He curses from the inside as he watches Mufasa carrying on even though he is been weakened by the force of the Nightmares. _Die damn it! h_ e thinks and his wish comes true because at the same moment a Nightmare crushes on Mufasa. He roars in pain as he falls down and Simba flies away from his dad's grip.

The little lion is once again trapped in a prison of moving bodies that threaten to smash him like a branch under their hooves. He doesn't know what to do, he has nowhere to go, he is hopeless. He shuts his eyes and braces himself for the end but then he feels his paws leaving the ground and two big jaws clenching around him. _Dad got me_ he calms himself. Mufasa performs a high pounce and climbs on the nearest façade with his claws. He gently places Simba upon an elevation and the cub partly shifts, feeling safe again. His brownish-orange eyes lock with his dad's fiery red and inside them there is nothing but pure gratitude and love. Simba attempts to help his father climb on the elevation too, but before he can touch him the raging river of wildebeests carries him away. "DAD!" Simba screams in anguish while his father is being pushed to the hard ground once again. Simba can't do anything to help him from where he stands, Mufasa is on his own, but Simba doesn't loses hope. He knows how strong his dad is and refuses to believe that this is end of the great King Mufasa. His worried eyes search for him between the running animals but there is no sight of him. Simba keeps searching and searching, until, at last, Mufasa pounces in the air with a loud roar and grasps on the stony wall with his claws. Simba relieve can't be described in words when he sees his dad climbing up the wall. The boy quickly turns around and starts moving up, hoping to get to the top in order to help Mufasa.

Mufasa struggles with all his remaining strength to reach the top and save himself but he feels his powers giving up on him slowly. His grip gets weaker, his limbs are tired and in pain and he can't control his form any more. He unwillingly partly shifts but thankfully his claws still hold on – for how long, he doesn't know. And then he sees _him_.

"Scar!" he pleads. His brother stands on the edge of the cliff, his face an impassive mask. "Brother...Help me!" Mufasa's begging words fall on deaf ears. Scar's emotionless look changes and turns to a vicious grimace and his claws are being drove into the flesh of Mufasa's hands. The latter howls in pain and Scar leans closer to him. Their eyes lock and what Mufasa saw inside Scar's glowing green gaze hollowed his heart and left him speechless. In that moment he sees it all, all the darkness, all the malice and all the deadliness that Scar was hiding under the surface all these years. Mufasa can't recognize him any more, that's not the boy he grew up with or the man he through he knew. He is not the brother he loved, he is a void and soulless being, an instrument of evil. He is astonished at the sight of Scar's wicked smile that gives away all his bad intentions. He can't believe what is happening. How can he betray his own blood in such way? Mufasa feels nothing but affliction in his last moments. He is not afraid because he knows he is going to die. And he is going to die from the hand of his own sibling. "Long live the King" these are Scar's last words towards his brother before shoving him with his claws off the side of the cliff. Mufasa screams hysterically and slowly falls to his death.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Simba's sorrowful scream unites with his father's as he watches him fall of the cliff and disappear into the mass of the wild animals. Breath is being stolen from Simba's lungs, his body goes still and numb and he feels his existence heavier than ever. _No! No! No! It can't be!_ he is crying from the inside because he simply has lost his voice. He refuses to believe that his dad is gone, no matter what his eyes might have seen his heart doesn't want to believe that this is the truth.

* * *

After the herd is gone, Simba ascends from the elevation and jumps into the gorge. The fog of dust hurt his eyes and his lungs. He coughs and then shouts: "Dad!". His calling echoes three times before disappearing with the wind. No response but the werelion boy keeps looking. His keen hearing catches a sound in the background. "Dad?" he wonders. The sound keeps getting louder and soon Simba finds out that it was actually the gallop of a wildebeest that had been left behind. Simba's gaze follows the running animal and ultimately fall on something else. The form of a man lying on the ground under an arch that was once the tree that Simba had climbed up, searching for saving. The boy's heart is afraid of what that image might be but his feet still drive him towards that direction.

Simba approaches the arch and finds his father's body being the one lying under it. Mufasa has returned to his human form. The dark leather of his clothes is torn, his torso and limbs are full of bruises, his hair are dirty and his face filled with dust and cuts. Despite his beaten up body, his expression is calm, peaceful, like he feels no pain. He looks as if he is sleeping. The once remarkable and fascinating creature he was has now been turned into a beautiful tragedy. "Dad?" says Simba but he hears no reply. "Dad, come on. You got to get up" his voice breaks while shaking him in order to wake him up. "Dad? We have to go home". Simba pleads and pleads for his father to get up but the body remains still. The boy shakes him and tries to pull him up from the ground but he doesn't responds to any stimuli. At last Simba places a trembling finger upon his dad's neck and searches for pulse. _Only cold dead silence runs through his veins._ Simba feels as if the world is crushing him down, making it hard for him to breath. He jumps up and starts running around in a devastated outburst. "Help!" he cries out and listens to his voice echoing through the empty gorge. "Somebody! Anybody" he begs with all his heart but the only reply he gets its more echoes. Hot tears burn his eyes and begin to run down his cheeks. "Help" he whimpers. He glances at his father's corpse as more rivers of endless tears overflow his eyes and threat to drown him. Simba's feet crawl him back next to Mufasa and the boy lies beside his father for one last time. His stiff arm embraces Simba but there is only the memory or warmth inside this hug. Simba mourns and weeps for Mufasa, his best friend, his protector and his mentor. But most importantly, for the ultimate love of his father that he will never feel again. _He's gone and there is nothing I can do to bring him back!_

Scar emerges from the shadows and comes through the dusty fog like a human-like incarnation of the Grimm Reaper. He approaches Mufasa's dead with slow and steady steps and puts on a stoic face for the encounter with Simba. He finds the boy lying beside his father, nested in his life-less embrace, mourning his loss. "Simba" he speaks and the kid turns around to face him with wet eyes. "What have you done?" he throws the accusation without any hesitation.

Simba jumped up and tried to catch his breath in order to speak. "There were wildebeests...and he tried to save me" he whimpered, both his voice and his body shaking completely. "It...it was an accident...I didn't mean for it to happen". Simba gasped but nothing could stop him from crying. The pain was so unbearable he didn't think he could ever stop crying.

"Of course. Of course you didn't" says Scar in a more soothing way. He spreads his arm wide and pulls Simba into his embrace. Simba buries his face in his uncle's chest and weeps. "No one ever _means_ for these things to happen" Scar lies through his teeth. "But the King is dead" at the sound of these words, Simba raised his head and met Scar's stoic gaze. "And if it weren't for you, he'd still be alive". He knows all the right words to push Simba over the edge and he is using them all. He doesn't care how sadistic it is, he is willing to use any method in order to fulfil his purpose since the first plan didn't work completely.

Simba feels the remorse like an iron fist that keeps clenching harder and harder around his heart. _He is right. This all my fault!_ he thought to himself. Mufasa would still be alive if he hadn't come to the gorge to save Simba. He was the reason why he lost his life, his dad sacrificed himself to save him. How was he supposed to live now, knowing that he is responsible for his father's death? How is he supposed to recover from this? Another tear rolls down his cheek. "What will your mother think?" says Scar and this time he even looks sad. _My mother! Nala!_ Simba had forgot that Mufasa's loss would affect other people too. It would affect _the world_! What would his mom think of him now? She could never forgive him. And Nala? Would she ever talk to him after knowing that he was their Alpha's cause of death? None of them would ever be able to even look at him after that and he knows he can't survive if the people he loves most despise him. And what about the kingdom? His people had already formed a negative opinion for him after the werehyenas' incident got public. And they just lost the most gifted and loved leader that has ever reigned, they most definitely wouldn't trust or want a troubled and broken 11 year old boy to rule Saeva, especially if he is the reason for the end of their prosperity. "What am I going to do?" Simba asked while two more tears made their way through his eyes.

Scar lets him go off his embrace and looks directly into his eyes. "Run away Simba" he says in a way so serious that is terrifying. "Run. Run away and never return".

In Simba's mind, that solution seems ideal. He has lost his father, his mother will always think of him as the reason she lost her beloved mate, the girl he cared for so deeply would want nothing to do with him any more and no one would want him for his King. There is nothing left for him in the Pride Lands. He takes in one deep breath to raise some shattered pieces of his spirit and makes one cautious step back. He glances one last time at his uncle before turning around, shifting to a lion and running away.

Scar watches the little cub vanishing to the thin air and a light smile appears on his face. He senses the presence of his three wild dog minions and he gives them their final order. "Kill him" he says, the three hyenas growl and they chase after the young prince.

Simba stops running suddenly when he faces a dead end. But that's not his only problem. His keen hearing catches the sound of footsteps and growls and it doesn't take him long to realize to whom they belong to. He glances behind him, sees the yellow-eyed, wickedly-smiled hyenas approaching him menacingly, and his survival instinct kicks in. He uses his claws to climb up the walls and uses a chasm in the granite to get to the other side, escaping from the claws of Banzai that where just an inch away from touching his back. He keeps running but another obstacle is thrown in his way – a cliff and a field of thorns in the end of the descent. As the hyenas get closer to him – and since he has nothing to lose – he decides to jump off the cliff. He makes himself a small ball, rolls down the side of the rocky surface and lands in the field of thorns. He is bruised and the thorns scratch him but he reminds himself that his healing ability will cure him in order not to think of the pain. He glances at the cliff and sees the hyenas running down its side. He quickly regains his strength and makes his way through the thorny maze, looking for an exit.

Banzai squeals scared when he sees the thorny field waiting for them in the end of the ride. He presses his paws against the rock and tries to stop the fall and the other two follow his example. They safely land on an elevated rock but Banzai accidentally missteps and ends falling into the sea of thorns anyway. From the surprise and the pain of the thorns being stabbed into his skin, Banzai unwillingly shifts and screams. Shenzi and Ed also shift since they thought it was hilarious and got carried away. They laughed their lungs out as Banzai struggled his way back on the rock. Shenzi's catches something with her peripheral vision and exclaims: "Hey, there he goes! There he goes!". Banzai pulled a thorn off his arm with his teeth and grinned. "So go get him!" he yelled at Shenzi. "There is no way I'm going in there!" says Shenzi with a grin. "What, you want me to come out looking like you, cactus butt?" she mocked as Banzai pulled another thorn of his thigh with his teeth and spit out on Ed's face. "But we got to finish the job" he says. Shenzi thought of it for a moment. "Well, he's as good as dead out there anyway. And _if_ he comes back, we'll kill him" she simply states with a smile. "Yeah! You hear that? If you ever come back, we'll kill ya!" Banzai shouted at the void as if he was talking at Simba. The trio laughed satisfied with themselves and made their way home. In their minds, the job was done. Lost is the same as dead.

* * *

LATER THAT NIGHT

That night, the news about Mufasa's and Simba's death shocked the kingdom of Saeva and brought such great grief and sorrow to everyone's heart that it can't be described in words. The kingdom wept for the King who all adored and admired, to whom they owned so much, and the loss of the young prince who had so many years left to live, a very promising prince with a lot of great potentials to whom they always counted on to carry on the legacy and had already began to see that he was worthy of their faith. The werelions' pride mourned for the loss of their Alpha, the heart and soul of their clan, the man whose spirit always empowered them and the lion that always protected them. Sarabi's mournful cries echoed through the entire expanse of the Pride Lands, her heart broke into a million pieces and her soul ached so much that she felt like she had died with them. She couldn't bare it, she couldn't handle the fact that her Alpha, her warrior, the love of her life had met death like this, in such a disgraceful way. And Simba, her child, the soul of her soul, her little soldier had died before he even start learning what life really is. Young Nala cried for her Alpha but most importantly wept seas of tears for Simba. Her friend, her confidant, the boy she was in love with. She hated herself for been mad at him, for not talking to him, for avoiding him, for not telling him that she loved him with all her heart before losing him forever.

"Mufasa's death is a terrible tragedy" Scar stated after he announced the painful news. "But to lose Simba, who had barely begun to live..." he gasped and feigned to hold back his tears. He pretended to be devastated, when in reality, he hardly felt sad. That's what happens when you harden your heart and sell your psych to the forces of darkness in order to satisfy your ambition and greed. The members of the pride lowered their heads as an act of respect and mourning. Sarabi silently wept, while Zazu was tenderly stroking her hand to comfort her – his intentions were good-hearted but nothing could ease the pain Sarabi was going through. Tears started sliding from young Nala's eyes and she buried her face in her mother's embrace to cry peacefully. "For me, it's a deep, personal loss. So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne" Scar continued steadily. And then _they_ came. The sinister laughters of the werehyenas' echoed and their shadows danced across the façades of the Pride Rock as they invaded this sacred hour for the pride. "Yet out of the ashes of this tragedy we shall rise to greet the dawning of a new era in which werelion and werehyena come together in a great and glorious future". The werelions and the bird-man could nothing but watch as their mortal enemies took over their home with the blessing of their new leader. Scar went up the Pride Rock and, that way, he claimed the throne for his own. He walked down the stony aisle and when he reached the edge he roared, proclaiming and making official that he was the new King and Alpha. At last, he had everything he wanted.

* * *

In the meantime, somewhere in the outskirts of the Pride Lands, an old druid was performing his own funereal ritual. Tears filled Rafiki's eyes and shaped streams down his cheeks as he erased Mufasa's drawing from the Tree of Life. A life faded away and another would take its place at the blank space he left behind. But when he was about to erase Simba's, he couldn't do it. The boy wasn't supposed to die, his story wasn't over yet, he hadn't fulfilled his destiny. An overwhelmed Rafiki run his hand over the drawing, barely wiping it out and let it be. This wasn't the end of Simba's story, he was sure. The heavens were telling him to brace himself and have faith.


	7. The 'No Worries' Life

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay but it's been a crazy time for me and so it was kinda hard to focus on writing. I want to thank everyone who took time to read and/or review my story, it means the world to me. (Pretty sure I've mentioned before but anyways XD) I hope you enjoy the new chapter too and stay tuned coz the end hasn't come yet. ;-)**

The sun felt hotter than ever, like a vicious and deadly burning orb of fire, radiating its heat upon an already scorched land. The dessert of the Pride Lands was an inhospitable place for any form of life, a dry and endless expanse of land, but that was a minor detail for Simba when he was running for his life. During that time, his better judgment and logic were clouded by the dread of death, his survival instinct had taken the full control of his actions and was screaming at him to keep running, to go as far away from the hyenas, and the dessert seemed to be the only safe haven. That's how he had got here, away from the place he once called home and from everything he ever loved. A vagabond at a hollow plain of hot rocky ground and no shred of green anywhere, – which was giving him the feeling he was walking on the surface of the sun –, without any source of food or water, and no place to go. He'd spent his entire life at the tropical climate of the Pride Lands and yet he had never experienced so much heat! Wave after wave, they were drowning him, smothering him, searing his skin, drying out his body of any kind of fluid and causing him to ache at every attempt of breathing. He had been wandering at the dessert for days, weeks, maybe months – he wasn't sure, he had lost track of time at this point – and his healing ability and hyper endurance had grown unable to conserve him. Gradually, the fatigue beat him, his legs numbed and his body couldn't carry his burden anymore. He found himself lying on the hard and searing ground of the dessert, his senses fading and his eyelids shutting down. He fell into a deep slumber and waited for a heavenly spirit or the Grim Reaper – he wasn't sure whether he deserved to go to heaven or hell after what happened – to come and lead him to the other side. _I'm sorry_ _dad_ _. I_ _let you down. I failed_ this is the last thought that crosses his troubled mind before the darkness consume him.

It doesn't take long for the vultures to gather up. They soar in circles over the unconscious body – and possible corpse – in the middle of the dessert. It's a slim pile of sunburned flesh and small limbs, but, overall, it looks like it can satisfy their hunger. The flying carnivores croak and perform tailspins like falling stars formed of ebony feathers. Their talons scratch the desiccated earth, their wings shape a dark dome over the pure shifter's stiff body and they brace themselves to devour their humble meal. But something happened at this very moment. Something that prevented the vultures from consuming young prince Simba. _Someone could possibly say that fate spared him._

Two forms make their deus ex machina appearance; a weasel on the back of a human-sized warthog. They come running with great fury, the sound of the warthog's hooves echoing like rhythmic battle drums, and attack the vultures. The weasel leaped off the warthog's back and transformed to a skinny, short man with messy hair in the color of cooper, tanned complexion and almond, honey-colored eyes that sparkle with mischief. He and his companion then start chasing the birds around, causing them to fly away in fear. Black feathers fall in their path as they rise to the sky in a symphony of croaks, leaving the unconscious body behind them, untouched and unharmed. "Get out! Get out! Get out of here!" the wereweasel shouts loudly and throws kicks from here and there, scaring away the remaining vultures. The warthog snorts satisfied with their accomplishment and shifts back to his human form. A relatively pompous man with ebony skin, beady black eyes and short hair in the color of pitch, dressed in a timeworn shirt and pair of trousers made of animal's fleece. "I love this! Messing with the buzzards! From the best ideas we had!" says the werewarthog and laughs, exposing a line of white teeth. The wereweasel throws his head back and laughs loudly. "Gets 'em every time" he says as he dusts off his beige furry tunic.

The two fellows are Timon and Pumbaa, two shifters, the one a member of the wereweasel clan (sneaky and smart creatures yet coward and very powerless compared to the other species so the spend most of their time hidden underground in order to avoid any conflict with the other shifters) and the other of the werewarthogs kin (brutes, ruthless warriors and highly skilled hunters with a low mental capacity and no personal hygiene which results to their 'special' scent), from the Wild Jungle that expands beyond the great dessert. They are what the rest of the community calls Strays; shape-shifters without a pack or herd – either because they were kicked out or because they chose to leave – which wander from place to place, always looking for a thrill...and for the one true place they can call home.

"Hey Timon" says Pumbaa as he approaches the cadaver that nearly became the vultures' prey. His keen hearing catches an out-of-place, slow and weak sound. A heartbeat. He leans over the body and takes in a big sniff of its scent; it doesn't smell like death. "You better come look. I think it's still alive" Pumbaa states with a grin.

Timon makes a grossed-out grimace and a sound of detestation surfaces from his throat on the idea of going anywhere near that carrion. But he ultimately sighs and approaches. He kneels next to his friend, over the sunburned, slimmed, damaged leftovers of what once was a young boy. "Alright, what have we got here?" he mumbles. Timon sucks in a big sniff and he too notices that there is no scent of decomposing flesh in the air. Something about the boy's clothing disturbs him, he knows he has seen them before but can't quite recall on which tribe. The little shifter's face is covered by his dirty brownish hair and so Timon shoves them away. One look into the boy's face is all it takes for Timon to freak out! The strong, rough, yet symmetric and harmonic facial features, combined with the black leather-made clothes and the indication of a muscled physic give away the boy's tribe. "Geez! It's a werelion!" Timon cries out in horror and jumps upright as a reflect. He hops on Pumbaa's back with the nimbleness and the awkwardness of a kid and pokes him repeatedly in order to make him shift and take them away. "Run, Pumbaa! Move it!" Timon urges but Pumbaa disdains his friend's acting.

Pumbaa shakes Timon off his back. "Hey, Timon, it's just a _little_ werelion" he stares at the poor child with a soft, tender and caring look. "Look at him. He's so cute and all alone! Can we keep him?" he says quite excited, but Timon nearly loses his mind by the sound of that idea. " Pumbaa, are you nuts?!" Timon shouts at Pumbaa's ear hysterically. "We're talking about a werelion; werelions are bad news for guys like us! He can kill us in the blink of an eye!" he quivers with fear and hides behind his companion's back. Pumbaa turns around and faces him. "But he's so little" he murmurs with pleading eyes. "He's gonna get bigger" says Timon with a grin. "Maybe he'll be on our side" says Pumbaa with a confidant smile.

Timon laughs contemptuously. He says: "A - huh! That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. Maybe he'll b-..." and then an idea came up to him. "Hey, I got it! What if he's on our side?" or actually an idea that came up to Pumbaa which Timon claimed as his own. It's something very common for them; Timon enjoys to be the smart one in the gang, and Pumbaa cares too much for him to ruin his fantasy so he keeps his intelligence a secret. "You know, having a werelion around might not be such a bad idea" says the wereweasel with a sly grin. "So we're keeping him?" says Pumbaa joyfully and turns to a warthog. He uses his tushes as a leverage to pick the little werelion boy up from the ground and carries him with his snout. Timon climbs on the back of his companion and snorts. "Of course. Who's the brains in this outfit?" he says playfully. Pumbaa narrows his eyes and makes a murmuring sound as a reply. "My point exactly" says Timon. Sweat is dripping down his forehead and the sun's burning kiss finds the side of his face. "Geez, I'm fried" he declares and wipes the sweat of his forehead. "Let's get out of here and find some shade" and with that been said, the two friends leave the parched environment of the great dessert behind them, carrying along a new addition to their companionship.

* * *

Simba felt as if he had been resurrected from the dead as he rose from the darkness and subconsciously forced his eyelids to open and face the light of day, the light of life. His skin wasn't hurting anymore – he thought that his healing ability had ultimately kicked in – and a wet sensation tickled the flesh of his face and upper body. _Someone was showering him with water._ An odd utensil touched his lips and felt a small creek of clear water passing the gate of his mouth and going down his throat, soothing the sting of dehydration and recharging him with energy. Once his eyes get used to the light again, he figures out where he is. The large and pointy leaves of some palm trees provide some shade to his head, letting just some shreds of the sunlight to touch his eyes, looking like green wings of a strange bird that is trying to shelter him. The sound of water echoes in his ears and when he looks to the left he sees a small lake of clear blue color. The rocky ground is warm but not searing and there are beautiful plants and flowers decorating the landscape. _How did I get to an oasis?_ he wonders.

He tilts his head upwards and sees two figures standing over him. Two men, one with ebony skin, short dark hair and black beady eyes and one with messy cooper-colored hair and almond eyes in the shade of honey. Judging by their clothes, he concludes that they come from the Wild Jungle, while the form of their eyes – and the brunet's smell – tell him that they are part of the wereweasel clan and the werewarthog herd.

Simba might have survived the physical death but his soul was lost and damned for sure. Along with his senses, his guilts came back. The memories of what happened in the gorge overwhelmed him like a violent wave, filling him with sorrow. The breath of life doesn't feel like a gift anymore, but like a burden. A curse. He feels as if he is cursed to constantly survive from the claws of death only so as he can live in the torturous memory of his father's demise. He didn't believed he deserved to be alive after all the destruction he had caused, all the pain he had brought upon himself and the ones he loves. He couldn't bear the thought of existing in a world where his dad, the one he held most dear, was lying breathless inside a grave. He would do anything to undo the tragedy.

"You okay, kid?" a voice pulls Simba back to the land of the wake. He looks up and sees that it belonged to the wereweasel man. The little boy managed to lift himself up and face his two saviors. "I guess so" he says weakly and painfully. "You nearly died!" the man with the dark features exclaims, his beady eyes wide open and his face a grimace of fear. "I saved you" says the wereweasel man and waves his hands in a flaunting way. The werewarthog snorts annoyed and his companion grins. "Pumbaa helped..." he admits with a hiss and the werewarthog – Pumbaa – smiled satisfied and held his head up with pride "...a little". Simba forced himself to get up from the ground and take a few tough steps. "Thanks for your help" he says plainly as he walks away from the two folks. "Hey, where you going?" the wereweasel man asks him. "Nowhere" the boy murmurs. His head is lowered in an act of sadness and shame, he shrinks his shoulders and is hard for him to walk straight while having all this unbearable emotions overwhelming him. He doesn't know where he is going, he just knows that he wants to be alone at this point.

"Gee. He looks blue" says Timon as he watches the boy walking away, entangled in an aura of exhaustion and deep distress. Pumbaa narrows his eyes. "I'd say brownish-gold" he comments but Timon shakes his head. "No, no, no. I mean he's depressed" says Timon with a grin. "Oh" it's Pumbaa's only statement and he makes a face of understanding. The boy has barely managed to walk a yard when his tired feet let him down and he is forced to stop and regain his strength. He seems to have abandon the supremacy and vigor of the werelion clan for the weakness and misery of a mundane creature, he oppresses the great power and endurance that runs through his veins and lets himself being tortured. None of the two companions can bring themselves to guess of what might have caused a child of the brightest kin to this state. Ultimately, Timon and Pumbaa approach the boy, the werewarthog man places stands beside him and places a comforting hand upon the kid's shoulder. "Kid, what's eatin' ya?" he asks and gives him a look of compassion. Timon tries to light up the mood. "Nothing, he's at the top of the food chain!" he jokes and laughs with his own anecdote. "The food chain!" he repeats in case they didn't get what was funny and continues to laugh. He expects the other two fellows to join him, but the only reaction he gets from the boy is a look of despair and Pumbaa gives him a look that shouts: "show some sympathy man!". Timon's laughter changes to an awkward chuckle and he ends up sighing heavily and grinning embarrassed. "So" he says in a more strict voice this time "where are you from?".

"Who cares? I ain't going back" says Simba coldly and attempts to get pass the two unwanted kind shifters, but once again the wereweasel man gets in his way with a quick maneuver. "Ah you're an outcast! Great, so do we!" he says rather cheerfully, looking strangely proud to be a social pariah, a shifter estranged from his kin. And then Simba makes the connection; these two guys are Strays! That explains why the are all alone, just the two of them in the middle of the dessert lands. Simba always felt sorry for these misfits who had to give up their life in the loving embrace of their pack for the lonely existence of a wanderer with no home. But now he feels differently. Now he understands that the circumstances force some people into solitude, whether it's a momentary mistake or simply their nature. Just the way he was lead to this position. Now he was a Stray too. _The prince who had gone rogue._ "What'd ya do, kid?" Pumbaa asks sympathetically. Simba feels his heart sinking in his chest at the hearing of this question and turns his head the other way so as they can't see the tears that threat to wet his eyes. "Something terrible. But I don't wanna talk about it" he says weakly and chokes on the bitter sob that climbs up his throat as he subconsciously recalls his father falling off the edge of the cliff to his death.

"Good. We don't wanna hear about it" says Timon – bold, snarky and impulsive as always. Pumbaa grins and nudges him with his elbow in the back in a scolding way. "Come on, Timon" he says and Timon grins back at him in protest as if he doesn't realizes what he keeps doing wrong. "Anything we can do?" says Pumbaa with a warmer and kinder voice, now addressing to the poor child. "Not unless you can change the past" he replies, his voice tired and his expression as hurt as if he was beaten up by a thousand shifters! Pumbaa puts on a wide smile and says with confidence: "It's times like this my buddy Timon here says: you got to put your behind in your past".

Timon gets instantly indignant by the false wording of his sacred words and starts shaking his hands around, protesting about the way his saying was defiled. "No, no, no. Amateur" he snaps. Pumbaa attempts to correct himself but Timon hushes him and takes the lead. "Lie down before you hurt yourself. It's "You got to put your past behind you" he says. "Look, kid. Bad things happen, and you can't do anything about it. Right?".

"Right" Simba rushes to reply, but then Timon pokes his little nose with his long slim finger and exclaims an intense: "Wrong!" resulting to a startled Simba. The wacky creature puts on a stately look and continues. "When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world". Simba shook his head. "That's not what I was taught" he says sharply. A sly grin spread across Timon's face. "Then maybe you need a new lesson" he says mischievously. He walked closer to Simba, raising a finger in the air in a teacher-like way and cleared his throat. "Repeat after me. Hakuna Matata". The way he spoke the two final words was the epitome of solemnity.

Simba narrowed his eyes and made a baffled face at the sound of the last phrase. It was some sort of slang, one of the tongues that he wasn't yet been taught. "What?" he says, his voice echoing hoarse and confused. "Hakuna Matata" says Pumbaa, slower this time, so as for Simba to take in every letter of the words. "It means 'no worries'" he explains with a kind smile.

"Hakuna Matata" Timon sings softly, spreading his arms in a dreamy gesture and Simba watches him with intrigued yet confused eyes. "What a wonderful phrase!" the wereweasel man smiled widely glowed, vibrating cheeriness, and his honey-colored eyes began to glow. "Hakuna Matata!" exclaims Pumbaa joyfully. Simba turns around and his gaze rests upon Pumbaa's obsidian features, the corner of his lips and the shells of his eyes wrinkled by the big smile that decorates his face of darkened complexion. "Ain't no passing craze!" he sings. Simba feels the candle of curiosity being ignited inside of him, he wishes to learn more about this wonderful phrase, this miraculous philosophy that brings so much happiness to those who follow it. Which seems to have the power to heal incomplete souls such as the ones of these two kind Strays. _Maybe it can fix mine as well_ Simba hopes.

Timon pads the young werelion boy on the back and spreads his arm over his shoulders. "C'mon kid. Let the pros teach you a few things" he said and began to walk, dragging the kid along, while Pumbaa follows by his side. They sit on the warm eath, under the shade of a tall palm tree, and Simba puts himself in the middle so as to pay attention at both of the folks and to what they have to say. Timon hits his hands together in an introductory gesture. "So listen up, lad, and listen up closely. Hakuna Matata isn't just a bunch of words, it is a sacred truth! It means 'no worries for the rest of your days' and there is no room for doubt. Once you make Hakuna Matata a part of your life, you can say 'bye bye' to all of your concerns and troubles. Guaranteed!" he says, his voice a fun mix of serious sharpness and the squealing sound of mirth. His words almost sounded like sweet music to Simba's restless ears, reminding him how it felt like to be happy and tempting him to go back to that state. "It's the problem-free philosophy by which all of us Strays live. The way we go through life: big, leisurely and carefree! It's the only you can truly enjoy it, little buddy" Pumbaa added in the same merry and energetic way, ending his phrase with a wink.

"Hakuna Matata" Simba mumbled, trying out the words on his tongue. They tasted good. They felt right.

"Yeah, it's our moto!" says Pumbaa.

"What is a moto?" Simba asks plainly.

"Nothing, what's the moto with you?!" Timon joked again, only that this time both friends laughed loudly. Pumbaa cleared his throat from the laughter's harshness before speaking again. "Ya know, kid, these two words will solve all your problems!".

"That's right! Take _us_ for example. We both left our factions and we had never been happier!" said Timon with a satisfied grin. Simba's eyes traveled from Pumbaa to Timon and then back. "Why?" he wished to know. Pumbaa scoffed and his face turned to a scornful frown at the thought of his old life. "It's a long story. My herd kicked me out cause they thought I wasn't good enough to be called a member of their species. I wasn't a brute like them. I didn't enjoy fighting and killing like they did. If I had to fight and take a life I wanted to do it because I had a reason! Under any other circumstances, I didn't wish to paint my hands with blood. The warthogs don't approve morality, they think it's weakness. So they got rid of me" he said with a deadly seriousness. His eyes had an unprecedented coldness and sharpness in them, they looked more like black blades and less like black gems now. Simba realized at that moment the depth of that shifter's soul.

The little boy turned his gaze at Timon. "And what about you? What drove you into leaving?" he asked softly. Timon snorted and grinned scornfully. As he speaks, his hands don't stop making expressive movements around him and that haughty grin never leaves his face. "Oh I ditched this joint by my own free will. All this labor, the underground lifestyle and the constant hiding from the world was just too lame for me. These guys were trying to make me like them; a scary little wimp who digs tunnels in the earth and cowards at the sight of other shifters. I don't want this, man! I want to live my life to the fullest! Get out there, to the wild world, and have a big time adventure which will make my existence worth it!" Timon spreads his arms in a passionate gesture in order to make himself look more pompous and put emphasis on his words, as a bomb of energy and emotion erupts inside of him and causes a flow of intense, lusty words to flow from his lips. His chest grows heavy from the fast breathing and his honey gems of eyes sparkle brightly again. He was a vibrant and powerful personality that's for sure. Timon lowered his arms slowly, lessing his enthusiasm to an appropriate level, and continued with a smirk. "So I took off. I was wondering alone for a couple of days without any place to go or anything to do – which was the most fun I ever had in my life – until I met this fellow over here" the two men exchanged a fist-bump and a wide hearty smile. "And we've been having a blast ever since!" Pumbaa added in a singing-like way.

Simba smiled weakly and allowed himself a light chuckle. "It seems like you two guys are doing just fine" he said and then suddenly his smile faded away. He remembered that he wasn't doing fine. That he could _never_ be fine again. Not entirely at least. He lowered his head in an attempt to hide his inner turmoil.

Timon glanced at the little fellow and his smile turned upside down. "Hey" he whispered and nudged him. The boy turned around and looked at him with these sad orangish-brown eyes that made the senseless heart of the wereweasel man to care. "What's your name kido?" he asked him.

"Simba" the boy responded.

"Well ya know Simba you can become a part of our crew too" said Timon, kindly and with clarity, without any hesitation. The eyes of the boy sparkled for the first time since the moment they met him. "Really?!" Simba exclaimed, looking firstly at Timon and then at Pumbaa, searching for reassurance. "Yeah, of course" said Pumbaa with absolute confidence. "There is always room for another Stray in the gang".

"You just have to sing it with us kid" said Timon with a mischievous smirk. The two men placed their fists in the middle of them and collided them. They waited for Simba to do the same.

Simba hesitated at first. He wasn't sure he could go through with it. He wasn't feeling certain that he could live as a Stray. He was the Prince after all! He was raised to be the leader of a whole not a rogue. He couldn't change who he was over a night. _But...that had already happened!_ When Mufasa went under, something changed in him. Something broke, leaving him incomplete. And that void was filled with grief, guilts and sorrow. He thought how pathetic he had ended up being...and then his eyes opened and everything seemed more clear for once. He remembered that this wasn't what his dad wanted for him. He didn't sacrifice himself to save a broken son. And if Simba allowed this to happen, if he allowed himself to be ruined, it would be the worst kind of disgrace. It's true, tragedy had hurt him but also it transformed him. When he chose to leave his home for the best, his time at the dessert, the fact that he fooled death...all these had played a part at forming him a new self. A stronger and tougher one. A survivor. A warrior. So Simba made a promise to himself; that he would honor his father, by enjoying, cherishing and preserving the life which was given to him and becoming the proud and strong lion Mufasa would want Simba to be. And even if that wasn't the case...he was willing to try anything, do anything...in order to stop the pain.

He fist-bummed Timon and Pumbaa, put on a hearty smile and sang in sync with them. "Hakuna Matata!"

* * *

"Welcome to our humble home" Timon made the introductory as he pulled away a curtain of leaves and revealed the most one of the most amazing sights Simba's eyes had ever faced! After some time of walking through the oasis of the dessert, Timon and Pumbaa had finally lead Simba to the place they liked to call home – at least, for the time being, until they find something more attractive. A gem of tropical beauty, filled with huge waterfalls of crystal blue waters, hills of green and an endless expanse of amazing flora. Simba couldn't imagine that such a heavenly place could be found beyond a sere dessert. Until this moment, the only earthly paradise he had ever known was the Pride Lands. But now he finds out that there is a second one and he is staring at it! "You live here?" he exclaimed filled with awe while a smile of pure joy made its way across his mouth. "We live wherever we want" said Timon.

"Yep. Home is where your back rests" says Pumbaa and chuckles.

"It's beautiful" Simba whispers. He is in ecstasies and awed by the beauty of this place but also very excited for the fact that this is now his new home!

As his two new friends show him around, he has the chance to admire every miracle-like feature of his new home to the depths of its beauty. The tall trees with the emerald leaves, the warm breeze of the jungle and the little plants popping out from the dirt, adding beautiful and vibrant colors to an already flawless painting of nature. The peaceful song of the stream which was flowing near by and its mesmerizing blue waters which shined like sapphires at the touch of the sunlight. There was a harmony between the elements which constructed a majestic landscape that could only be found in a kid's dream.

Simba's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the loud and not so discreet noise of Pumbaa's burp. "I'm starved" the man declares with a hungry grin and pads his belly demandingly. Simba hadn't thought of it until now but he was starving too, his stomach has been empty for heaven knows how much time and now was starting to get upset. "I'm so hungry I could eat a whole zebra" he said.

Timon took a step back at the sound of that statement and put on a grimace. "Ah-ha, we're fresh out of zebra" he hissed.

"Any antelope?".

"Nah-ah".

Simba was starting to despair. "Hippo?".

"Nope" said Timon sharply. Simba frowned but Timon knew he had to teach this kid the basics if he wished to become like them. He continued with a strict voice. "Listen kid; if you live with us, you're gonna have to eat like us. And we don't feed off kills, we eat what the nature provides us" he explains. He glances to the side and his eye catches the sight of a wooden block; the perfect place for some bugs to hide and the perfect little buffet for them! He turned around and headed towards the fallen trunk. "This looks like a good spot to rustle up some grub" he states.

Timon and Pumbaa lift the block and numerous bugs and grubs appear from underneath and start crawling all over the place. "What's that?" says Simba with a grin. Timon catches a little maggot in his hand, holds it with his index finger and thumb in front of his face and says with a light smile: "A grub. What's it look like?". He shoves the maggot in his mouth, chews and swallows, feeling satisfied with his meal. "Ewwwww, gross" Simba recoils. Timon licks the grease and slim of the bug from his fingers with a ravenous grin on his face. "Tastes like meat" he states.

Pumbaa catches a warm, brings it to its mouth and sucks it in hungrily. "Slimy yet satisfying" Simba's face becomes a mask of disgust as he watches the two men devouring loathsome creatures. "These are rare delicacies" says Timon. He catches another bug that had been crawling on the side of a small anthill, puts it between his teeth-lines and bites it in half. "He comes with a very pleasant crunch" he comments and then swallows. "You'll learn to love them" Pumbaa mutters through a mouthful of grubs. Simba's jaw had dropped open and his face has turned to a baffled grimace. _How can they eat these things?!_ he wondered, he, a lion, to whom the taste of meat was the ambrosia of Gods and couldn't imagine his life without it.

Timon gathered some of the grubs into a vesicle of broken wood that was lying near by. "I'm telling you, kid: this is the great life. No rules, no responsibilities..." various insects skitter out from a hole on the log and he takes for himself a big blue squeeze one. "Ooh! The little cream-filled kind!" he points out before devouring the little thing. "And most importantly, no worries" he finishes his thought and offers the vesicle with the grubs to Simba.

The boy is hesitant at first, since even the idea of eating these things make him want to vomit, but he eventually picks a big red grub to try out. _If he wants to be a Stray he needs to act like a Stray, and that includes eating like one right?_ He weights in his hand, gets a good look at it – he finds it repulsive in every way possible – and mumbles "Hakuna Matata" to carry some strength. In the end, he puts them slimy insect in his mouth and swallows it without chewing. He grins in ditaste at first but once he gets used to the flavor dancing in his tongue...he realizes it's not that bad. It actually kind of tastes like meat! It only needs a couple more try outs for him to fully learn to enjoy the flavor but he believes he won't have a problem. "Slimy yet satisfying".

And just like that. The new chapter of Simba's life began.

* * *

10 YEARS LATER

The years went by. Simba changed from a boy to a lad, a full-grown man, and from a cub to a fine and mighty lion. He kept training every day of his life, never forgetting his promise to his father to cherish the fact that he was alive. Something which the Stray lifestyle helped him a lot! Timon and Pumbaa introduced him to a care-free and fun way of living whose only condition is that you need to enjoy it! They spent their days singing, messing around, eating everything they wanted and not chilling without giving a damn about anything else. Timon and Pumbaa also became his best friends, companions and confidants, they became everything he needed and he loved them like they were his real family. His time in the exile turned out to be sweet and peaceful, and not once did he look back to the tragedies of his past. He was happy, even though it was just an illusion.

* * *

While in the meantime in the Pride Lands...everything fell into peril during that time of ten years. Scar and his army of werehyenas consumed the lands, wreaked havoc at their path and ruined every sign of life by feeding on both animals and shifters. Scar became a tyrant who enslaved the werelionesses, broke the pride's ethic and destroyed everything Mufasa and every King before him built. And no one can do anything to stop him. No one...except perhaps the one true King.


	8. Meant to Be

BACK AT THE PRIDE LANDS

Everything had changed through the past decade in the worst kind of way. The once glorious capital of the Wild Cats' nation, the powerful beating heart of the entire shape-shifters' world, the brightest, most precious and sublime jewel amongst the gems of this crown that it is Saeva, the home of the supreme species of the werelions...had now given its place to a rotten land, a black hellhole of darkness and misery were nothing good could ever survive. All was lost. And it was all Scar's doing.

After the diabolical and devious werelion murdered his own brother in cold blood and made sure that his nephew wouldn't be a problem to his plans, he proclaimed himself the King and took the reins of the kingdom. By taking advantage of the wave of grief and devastation that had been spread across the Pride Lands and beyond, no one objected when he announced his alliance with the werehyenas. Nor when he let them have their way with the creatures of the Pride Lands.

The werelionesses were powerless. They couldn't oppose to their Alpha, it was against the Code of the pride, and going up against their Code was going up against their purpose of existence. So they allowed themselves to become slaves to Scar's will, to fall from the mighty, ferocious and undefeated female warriors to the level of the disgraced and weak subjects of a tyrant. Their only purpose of existence now is to serve, obey and hunt for Scar and his werehyenas bitches. Not even Sarabi, the Alpha female of the pride and the Queen of Saeva, can do anything to stop this menace. Scar's abusive and cruel ways had a big affect on her as well, turning her heart into ice and her nerves into steal; becoming the flames who forced her into a sharp double-edged blade.

Gradually the animals, the Wild Cats and any other being with flesh and blood started fleeing the Pride Lands in order to escape the horrific fate of becoming prey to the werehyenas' hunger, resulting into the capital slowly becoming desolate. The ones who didn't make it...ended up having their skin and bones torn apart between the fangs of the nasty dogs. Their killing spree left nothing behind but dismembered skeletons, making the grassland look like a giant cemetery. And along with the wrath of the werehyenas, came the reign of darkness. Those hell hounds brought their evil force along the way when they invaded the Pride Lands and spread it everywhere like a plague, sickening the region. The dark force destroyed the flora, poisoned the earth and shadowed the region with a black and sinister cloud. So the Pride Lands slowly grew into a bleak place where nothing could grow or prosper, where the sun was too afraid to shine his light and the only sign of life was the desperate forms of the lionesses scavenging the grassland for hunt while the werehyenas defiled the Pride Rock.

And as far as the rest of Saeva is concerned...with Scar in charge and the forces of darkness growing more confident and powerful by the day, it won't take long for the vile man's iron paw of dominance to grasp the rest of the realm.

And where is Scar in times like this? But of course lying on his bed inside his cave, all relaxed and cozy – unmoved by the big time mess that his kingdom has become – licking the blood and meat off the bones of his victims while enjoying a performance of his own personal...'entertainer'.

"Nooooobody knows the trouble I've seen" Zazu sings, his voice deformed by the agony and the fatigue he's been through, ending up being nothing more than an aching whisper. Another victim of Scar's malicious way of ruling, Zazu was stripped off his position as the King's counselor – because according to Scar, a King with his skills didn't need an adviser to bossy him around in his own domain – and got abased to a disgraced servant, a lackey at the best. During the past ten years, the poor bird-man lost the two most important things in his life: his dignity and his freedom. Now he spends every moment of his days inside a cage of elephant bones that Scar demanded to build just for him, forced to entertain his master by singing to him. _Like a bird in a cage, the irony is truly_ _impressive_ _!_ "Nooooobody knows my sorrow" the dreary song fades away and Zazu collapses against the bars of his prison, clenching the cold and unbreakable material in his fists, tired of being humiliated like that. Hopeless because he has to go through this for the rest of his existence.

Scar digs out a piece of meat from his fang by using the pointy edge of the bone as a toothpick. "Oh, Zazu, do lighten up" he says plainly and throws the wasted bone away. The bone hits Zazu on the head on the way and the bird-man glares at the uncouth werelion with distaste. "Sing something with a little _bounce_ in it" Scar continues with a slightly cocky smile and shakes his hand for emphasis. Zazu grins and changes tune. "It's a small world after all..." he starts singing but Scar cuts him off abruptly. "NO! No. _Anything_ but that!" he snaps, flashing a grin of peeve. Zazu thinks of it for a second and then tries again with a more...bouncing tune. "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts. Dee-dee-dee-dee. There they are just standing in a row" this time he makes sure to sound more cheerful – even gestures to the rhythm of the song – to satisfy his master and apparently is working because Scar joins in. "Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head..." they sing in sync and Scar finally seems to enjoy himself.

Zazu wears his widest frown and sighs heavily. "Oh, I never had to do this with Mufasa" he complaints through his teeth. But Scar's keen hearing catches even that low whisper. With a swift movement, he jumps up on his feet and stands before of Zazu's cage. His eyes flare with menace, his fangs are bared and the structure of his face has changed to the one of a lion, revealing the mad animal hiding in his skin. He stands opposite the defenseless and trapped bird-man, reminding of a demon ascending right from Hell who came to take away the latter's final breath. An icy cold wave washes over Zazu bathing him in pure fear. "What did you say?" Scar growls. Zazu steps back to the corner of his cage, where Scar's claws _might_ not me able to touch him. "Nothing" he mumbles with a shaky voice. Scar's eyes now glow a wicked emerald green. _He might sits on the throne of an Alpha but he still has the soul of an Omega._ "You know the law. Never speak this name in my presence. I. am. THE KING!" he snaps with a roar and hits his hands on the boney-bars of the cage in a burst of wrath. Zazu cowards. "Yes sire...I was simply referring to your...different political approaches" he tries to justify himself.

Thankfully for him, something else demands Scar's attention at the moment that makes him put aside his rage. "Hey, boss!" Banzai calls out as he, Shenzi and Ed (also known as the leaders of the werehyenas, Scar's mediator to his submissives and handlers of his dirty work) storm in. Scar's features go back to human and he frowns at the sound of the werehyena's voice. "Oh. What is it this time?" he says unwillingly and steps away from Zazu's cage. _The relieved bird-man had never felt so happy to see these three curs._

"We've got a bone to pick with you!" says Banzai sharply but then Shenzi gets in his way and cuts off his bravado parade. "I'll handle this" she whispers and then turns at Scar. She uses a strict and formal tone when she starts talking. "Scar, there's no food, no water...".

"Yeah! It's dinner time, and we ain't got no stinkin' entrees" Banzai snaps, interrupting Shenzi.

Scar shakes his head. "It's the lionesses' job to do the hunting" he says, annoyed that he has to state such an obvious fact. "Yeah, but they won't go hunt" Banzai states plainly. Scar is left speechless at this point. "Oh... eat Zazu" he finally suggests. Zazu's eyes grow wide in astonishment. "Oh, you wouldn't want me. I'd be so tough and gamey and... eeww..." he says with a grin. Scar laughs. "Oh, Zazu, don't be ridiculous. All you need is a little garnish" he says.

Banzai is being bold and stares scornfully at the ignorant man before them who is trying to play the great. "I thought things were bad under Mufasa" he whispers so as only his two friends can hear him. But that's obviously not the case. "What did you say?" Scar snaps angrily. _Damn these werelions super hearing!_

"I said Muf..." Shenzi elbows Banzai in the stomach before he finishes this sentence and all hell breaks loose upon them! She grins innocently when Scar's gaze falls upon her to hide her guilt, Banzai bites his tongue and rethinks his words. "I said, uh... Que pasa?" he mumbles with an awkawrd grin. Scar still glares at them but thankfully he doesn't make a big deal out of it. "Good. Now get out" he commands. The werehyenas obey and head towards the exit of the cave with their heads lowered. Banzai gathers the final scraps of his courage, turns around and mumbles: "Yeah, but...we're still hungry".

"OUT!" Scar cries out and the trio runs away like scared little puppies.

* * *

THAT SAME NIGHT AT A SPECIAL PLACE ACROSS THE DESSERT

The world is full of peculiar noises but a very particular one happens to echo, upseting the nightime peace and quiet of this tropical forest; the defeaning burb of a werelion! Somewhere in this little eathly paradise, three best friends lie on a blanket of soft green grass, gaze at the sparkling stars against the dark blue sky and get some rest after a day of exhaustingly big amounts of fun and good food. "Woah! Nice one, Simba!" Timon comments with a grin. Simba smiles lazily "Thanks. Man, I'm stuffed!" he says and rubs his abdomen in a satisfied way. "Me, too. I ate like a pig" says Pumbaa, his voice heavy like the feeling of his stomach. Simba tilts his head a few inches up and left and glances at his friend. "Pumbaa, you _are_ a pig" he reminds him. Pumbaa frowns slightly as he thinks of it through. "Oh. Right" he realizes. All three of them inhale deeply and then let out a big and loud breath, releasing themselves from any kind of negative emotions that they might sneaked into their system during the day. And there they remain; still, care-free and contented.

Yes. This is life for Simba now. For the past ten years he'd spent all his waking hours exploring the secrets of this newfound land, playing fun games, swimming in the nearby streams, feasting on the endless goods that nature could provide and messing around as if the entire world belonged to him. And all these always accompanied by his two crazy and amazing buddies Timon and Pumbaa! Just three normal pals living their lives to the fullest!

Even though Simba's new way of living is the epitome of enjoyable, the wounds of his past didn't totally healed; instead they had turned into scars. Marks which he never shows nor speaks of but they are always there and they are never going away. Simba kept training, practising the art of combat and hunt, despite the fact that the only fights he was getting into lately were for fun and it was with his friends. But he was doing it anyway. One reason being that by stopping his training it would be like stopping a basic need of his nature – it would be like forgetting to breath. The other reason was that he would rather die than let himself become weak. He is a warrior and he'd be damned if he'd neglet it. He wanted to make sure that he will always be strong and ready for action. Like Mufasa would want him to be. Simba also kept his true identity hidden from Timon and Pumbaa. To them, he was nothing more than a werelion outcast who went rogue not a self-exiled prince with a damaged soul. And he prefered it that way, he wanted them to become his friends for what he was behind all of these. And they had loved him indeed; as a friend and as if he was a child of their own.

"Hey, Timon" Pumbaa whispers suddenly, breaking the silence. "Yeah?" Timon replies with a sleepy and hoarse voice, his eyes half-shut, lulled by the calmness of the place. "Ever wonder what those sparkly dots are up there?" Pumbaa asks, his gaze locked in the million diamonds over their heads. "Pumbaa, I don't wonder. I know" says Timon with confidence. "Oh. What are they?" Pumbaa cares to know. "They're fireflies. Fireflies that, uh... got stuck up on that big bluish-black thing" is Timon's 'genius' explanation. Pumbaa frowns, disapointed by the answer he got. "Oh...gee. I always thought they were balls of gas burning billions of miles away" he expresses his own personal theory. Timon scoffs and says: "Pumbaa, with you, everything's gas".

"Simba, what do you think?" this question catches the lad off guard. His heart begins to race restless as the memory of his father's words dancing in his ears surfaces from the depths of his mind. The night his dad showed him the stars and explained him that they were the Kings of the past watching over them, when he promised him to always be with him. Simba simply declined to say what he believed the heavenly lights were but Timon and Pumbaa could get really persuasive. They begged him big time to give them a piece of his mind and Simba eventually gave in with half a heart. "Well..." he mumbles shyily. "Yeah?" says Timon in anticipation. Simba took a deep breath, collected his courage and spoke with a steady voice. "Somebody once told me that the great Kings of the past are up there, watching over us".

"Really?" says Pumbaa.

"You mean a bunch of royal dead guys are watching us?" says Timon sarcastically and he makes a face. As if on cue...they both burst into hysterical laughs!

"Who told you something like that?" says Timon between his laughters.

"Yeah, yeah"

"What mook made that up?!"

"Yeah. Pretty dumb huh?"

"Oh you're killing me son!".

Simba laughs too for a moment. But then a troublematic thought appears and kills his laugh. He realized that it _actually_ was dumb! It was just a tale a parent tells to his child in an attempt to make him see the world through the eyes of wonder, so as he won't have any questions that can't be answered yet. It was a beautiful lie, he knew that now. _Because if it was true...then why didn't he feel Mufasa with him anymore?_ While his friends kept laughing at the stupid dream of a naive child, believing it for a joke, unaware of its true meaning, Simba gazes at the heavens above with eyes full of distress. He wonders where his father might be now if not by his side. He remembers how much he misses him, how much he needs him to guide him. The pain that consumes his heart feels like a knife which cuts the scar and re-opens the old wound.

Subconsciously, he gets up and approaches the edge of the cliff a few yards away from where they were lying. He hears Timon's voice in the distance saying: "Was it something I said?". He keeps going, as if the closest he can get to the edge the closest he can get to the heavens, as if he can jump off the ground, fly to the sky and touch the stars. See for himself the great Kings of the past. Reunite with his father. But that was impossible. Werelions were indeed powerful but they couldn't fly. And most importantly they can't meet with the dead. He can't bring back what was lost, no matter how badly he wants it. There is no power in the world who can resurrect the dead. Simba feels his legs trembling, his feet give up on him, gravity drags him down and he collapses on the earth with great force, causing little plants, grass and dirt to fly off their place. But he feels no pain. No physical at least. The ache in his heart and soul is so strong that doesn't leave room to feel anything else.

* * *

A light breeze picks up the plants and dirt that fly around Simba and carries them away. It carries them over the rain forests and the jungles, across the oasis and the dessert, all the way to the outskirts of the Pride Lands. To the region of the druids.

Rafiki immediately notices the change in the wind. It speaks to him, the elements inform him that something is going on. He raises his hand, snatches a handful of the plants that the breeze brought along and takes in a big sniff of their scent. It is interesting; a mix of smoldering desserty aroma with a spicy touch of tropic and...a little something from the Pride Lands...There is something bizarre in the wind. It brings the omen of change, rebirth and remedy. The old druid decides that it needs further investigation.

He heads at his hut where he keeps all his totems, potions and talismans. He takes an utensil made of turtle shell and throws the plants in it. He later takes a ripe red fruit, cracks it in half with his hands and begins to chant an hymn for the elements of nature to reveal their secrets to him. In the end, he takes a bite of the fruit, shuts his eyes and waits for the vision to appear in his mind.

And so it happens. He sees the face of a young man at the age of 21 with brownish golden hair, slightly tanned complexion and symmetric and harmonic facial features. He sees him practising in combat, his muscled body covered in black leather and his eyes flaring an intense fiery red. _Fiery red. The color of an Alpha_ _when he's come at age_ _._ He is undeniably sure that he has seen this lad before! _Simba!_

The vision is over and Rafiki lands back to reality with a gasp. "Simba?!" the name of the prince is the first thing that comes out of his lips. "He...he's alive? He's alive!" he exclaims both stunned and rejoiced! He heads to the back of the room and takes the cane with the sacred spheres attached at the tip out. It's been a long time since the last time this instrument of poor magic saw the light of day. It wasn't safe to use it while the dark magic was growing stronger, but the time had finally come to chase all the demons away. Exile them from the land of good back to the Hell from which they came. Rafiki storms out of the hut and rushes to the Tree of Life as fast as his old feet can carry him – he is so happy that he can't help himself from laughing all the way. He finds the place where once was the clear picture of a child prince Simba, but now there is nothing but a blurb of colours, and creates a new image. The one of the young man he just witnessed. The fair lad, the warrior in his prime, the Alpha lion. Once the picture is done, he makes an important declaration. "It is time".

* * *

Simba was occupied training in privacy this morning so Timon and Pumbaa decided to go for a walk in the jungle just the two of them. As they are walking through the beautiful and wild vegetation, they feel the need to start singing! So a cheerful tune starts flowing from their lips and they begin to march in a frolicking, jumping way as if they are dancing. _"In the jungle, the mighty jungle,_ _the werelion sleeps tonight!"_ Timon sings while Pumbaa backs him up with a melody of his own. _"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the werelion sleeps tonight!"_ Timon carries on but this time Pumbaa's vocals don't accompany him because he gets distracted by something more important to him; a big, fat, juicy grub and a good potential snack. The hungry werewarthog forgets anything else, steps off his original path and follows his prey. "I can't hear ya, buddy! Back me up!" says Timon but he continues to sing on his own. His friend's voice isn't there to complete the song. It is only then the wereweasel man realises he is alone. He turns his head from right to left, searches the place with his eyes but there is no sign of Pumbaa anywhere. "Pumbaa? Pumbaa?" he calls out but there is no reply.

Pumbaa shifts to a warthog and continues to stalk his prey from a better angle. At some point he gets the grub cornered but it flies away and lands on a lock some yards away. The warthog Pumbaa approaches it with cautious and is about to pounce on it when it moves further away once again. He is about to follow it, when his keen hearing catches something alarming, making him stop and observe. The rustle of weeds, the uneased chirping of birds, followed by the crunching noize of paws trampling on pebbles. _Timon?_ he wonders from the inside but since he doesn't notices anything else that should worry him, he continues hunting.

He finally has his prey right were he wants it. He stares the grub right into its tiny beedy black eyes before opening his mouth and caging it between his jaws. He devours his kill with high satisfaction but the moment of wellfare doesn't last for long. As he stands there completely lax, he catches a sign of movement through the field of weeds. And that movement turns into a wave that makes its way through the field, getting closer and closer to him. Soon that simple stroke of wind through the weeds takes form. Pumbaa barely sees it coming when that form pounces through the high dry grass and attacks him. Pumbaa manages to notice a wildcat's body covered in golden fur, two cold blue eyes like daggers and two rows of the sharpest teeth and fangs to be revealed through a roar, before he squeals like a pig and start running for his life! The animal, the shifter, that chases him is a lioness. And she is deadly! But Pumbaa can't fight with her, he is against killing. So the only option he has is to flee.

The warthog and the lioness find themselves into a lethal game of prey and predator from which only one can come out alive. Pumbaa is running through the jungle as fast as he can but the lioness is too fast for him. She constantly manages to catch up with him and her fangs end up being only a few inches away from Pumbaa's flesh.

Timon hears the fuzz. "Pumbaa?" he recognises the warthog squeal, he knows it belongs to his friend. But when the menacing roar reaches his ears, the blood in his veins turns into ice. "Pumbaa! Pumbaa!" he shouts again and again as he starts running towards the direction of the fuzz. His mind travels to dangerous and scary places at the thought of what might be happening to his companion at this very moment.

Pumbaa is guided by instinct. He doesn't a specific direction, he just wants to earn as much distance from his chaser as possible. And then the 'crack' echoes, and a horrible pain as if he is stabbed to the leg hits every nerve of his body. He was so focused at looking forward and keeping on moving that he didn't noticed the root that it was projecting from the ground until it was too late. His leg got caught in it and the amount of speed and force he was using resulted at his leg snapping like a branch. He feels himself falling to the ground, defenseless and unable now to escape his fate. The pain is so overwhelming that makes him lose control of his form and shift back to a human. Doom is certain for the werewarthog man at this point but he is not ready to give up just yet, he is determined to survive. He claws the earth with his finger nails and attempts to crawl his way out of his mess, while the ominous roar of the lioness echoes at distance.

Timon rushes to the rescue and finds Pumbaa crawling on the ground, scratching the dirt with his nails as he desperately tries to get away from something. "Pumbaa? Pumbaa! Hey what's going on?!" he says and kneels next to Pumbaa to help him. "She's going to kill me!" Pumbaa yells at Timon's face. Timon lifts his gaze from Pumbaa to the background and comes face to face with a lioness! "Whoa!" he cries out in horror, the natural coward instincts of the wereweasel take over him. He tries to drag Pumbaa away but he is too heavy and pompous for his slim arms to carry. "Geez...Why do I always have to save your a..." his sentence finishes with a scream as the lioness reaches the point where a pounce is the only thing separating her from the sitting prey.

Timon screams in agony as the lioness makes her final move. But at this very moment, a second roar echoes – a masculine, more powerful one – and the next thing Timon knows is a lion Simba pouncing from behind them and attacking the lioness with all his rage. Simba wards off the lioness from his friends, his weight shoves her to the ground and he stands on top of her with his claws on her chest. But she doesn't surrender. She punches Simba to the side of the face with her claws, he roars in anguish and she pushes him off her. The two lions stand en guard, they growl, and then they pounce at the same time, colliding like two war-machine asteroids. They begin to fight mercilessly; clawing, hitting and biting each other with all their force.

"Don't worry, buddy. I'm here for you. Everything is going to be okay" Timon comforts the wounded Pumbaa as the two watch the violent and yet exciting sight before them. "Get her! Bite her head!" Timon shouts at Simba. The lioness tries to claw his eyes out but he is fast enough to avoid her strike and retaliate with a clawing attack of his own. "Go for the jugular! The jugular!" Timon continues to shout moves at his champion. He turns a moment at Pumbaa. "See, I told you he'd come in handy" he whispers with a mischievous smile.

Simba pounces on the lioness and shoves her to the ground but with a swift move of her body she rolls them over and she ends up on top of him, growling and flashing her fangs menacingly. Under any other circumstances, Simba would have pushed her away from him with just a move of a muscle or simple bite her carotid and let her suffer a slow death...but he doesn't fight back. There is something that holds back his strike. The way she did the rolling maneuver, her weight on him, her paws on his chest...the feeling is way too familiar to ignore. And then his gaze locks with hers. Her eyes...even though are now deformed by the heated tension and adrenaline of the battle, he recognizes them. These kind of blue eyes belong only to one creature in the whole entire world.

His shock is so great that he forces himself to partly shift just so as he can speak the name loudly and let it out of his system, without caring for the vulnerability he exposes himself to. "Nala?". The lioness is stunned when she hears her name coming out of Simba's lips. Her face softens, loses all signs of aggression, and she gets off Simba. Simba gets back on his feet and fully shifts to a human. The lioness – Nala – moves as far away from him as possible, still considering him a cunning foe, and it is only when she feels safe that she allows herself to shift back to a human. She has changed so much from the last time Simba laid eyes on her. She is taller, her beautiful blond hair are now long endless waves of sunlight falling to her back and shoulders, her facial characteristics are now more mature, rough and better-sculpted. She is wearing the black leather armour of their pride, her body looking stronger and more muscled and yet she seems as if she hasn't eaten in days, maybe weeks. _Which is why she was forced into hunting another shifter and breaking the law._ Her eyes are different too, they look more severe, cold and shielded, revealing that her soul has changed, grown and mellowed too along with her body. She is no longer the sweet and playful little girl with whom they were going on adventures, now she is a strong and tough woman. Simba is mesmerized, she is even more beautiful than he remembered. Not even in his wildest dreams could imagine such perfection. "Is it really you?" he says with a kind smile as he takes a step forward, approaching the cautious werelioness.

"Who are you?" Nala asked to know.

"It's me. Simba" he says softly and makes another step closer to her. His expression is soft and kind, his eyes reflect nothing but warm affection. He no longer wears the mask of the dangerous and fearsome lion warrior; he is a friend who wishes her no harm. Nala's eyes narrow, exploring Simba's face at its every little detail. "Simba?" she whispers and he nods in reassurance. When her ice cold blue gaze melts away and her familiar bright and merry one lights up, Simba knows she has seen through the exterior the years had developed and found the kid she knew all those years back. They both let out an exclamation of great gladness and run to each other arms. Simba captures Nala in his embrace, lifts her up and starts spinning her around in a celebration of joy. They both laugh their lungs out and they are both out of words to describe what they are feeling right now.

"How did you..."

"How did you..."

"Where did you come from?!"

"This is gr...It's great to see you!"

"It's great to see you too!"

Timon's jaw drops open and his eyes grow double the wideness. Saying that he is baffled or speechless at the moment doesn't begin to cover it! _What the hell did just happen?!_ "Hey, what's goin' on here?" he says as he gets up, leaves Pumbaa's side and approaches the two crazy werelions.

Simba places Nala back on her feet, still holding her tight in his arms. He pulls back so as she can gaze right into his eyes, her palms climb to his cheeks, feeling the familiar softness of his skin, studying the angles of his face, getting used to the new details that had been added over the years. Simba places his palms on both sides of Nala's face two and allows his gaze to peruse every inch of her. Their gazes meet, blue oceans against red flames, and they smile heartily. "What are you doing here?" Simba asks. Nala chuckles. "What do you mean 'what am I doing'? What are you doing here?!" she says.

"Hey! What's going on here?!" Timon shouts out loudly, startling the two crazy kids, but at least he has their attention now. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and shoots a glare at Simba, demanding answers. The lad looses his grip on Nala and turned at Timon. "Timon, this Nala" he said and pointed at the fair lass with a wave of his head. Nala offered Timon a light smile. "She's my best friend!".

"Friend?" says Timon.

"Yeah. Hey Pumbaa come over here!"" Simba's call out at his other friend. Pumbaa tests the endurance of his leg before he moves and thankfully it appears that the healing ability has kicked in pretty nicely and now he is not in such pain. He stands up and approaches with a bit of aloofness. "Nala, this is Pumbaa. Pumbaa, Nala" Simba makes the necessary introductions. Pumbaa shoots a confused look at the werelion girl who was trying to eat him alive like two minutes ago, but when he sees that there is nothing wrong with her, he smiles and takes a bow like the gentleman he is. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance" he says. Nala smiles and chuckles slightly. "The pleasure is all mine" she replies with a tilt of her head.

"How do you...Woah woah woah!" Timon snaps, causing six pairs of confused and startled eyes to turn and look at him. "Time out" he says and forms a cross with his hands. "Let me get this straight" he touches the bridge of his nose. "You know _her_. She knows _you._ But she wants to eat _him_ " while he speaks, he gestures firstly at Simba, then at Nala and finally at Pumbaa. "And...everybody is okay with it? DID I MISS SOMETHING?" he exclaims hysterically. "Relax Timon" Simba tells him with a soothing voice.

"Wait till everyone finds out you've been here all this time" says Nala. Simba turns at her with anxious eyes. "And your mother? What will she think?" she continues with a half-scolding/half empathetic tone. Simba shakes his head. "She doesn't have to know. Nobody has to" he says in his most serious voice. "Of course they do! Everyone thinks you are dead!" she says. Simba arches a brow and frowns. "They do?" he asks. "Yeah. Scar told us about the stampede" says Nala, the ghost of sadness clouds her crystal clear blue gaze for a passing moment. "He did?" the reference to the stampede strikes a nerve at Simba's system. "What else did he tell you?" he asks to know. Nala smiles plainly. "What else matters? You're alive! And that means" she pauses, her eyes glow brighter than ever "you're the King". And with that declaration, the perfect illusion in which Simba was living for the past ten years came crushing down, breaking into a million pieces of glass, and now he is standing naked in the cold crudeness of reality.

"King?" says Timon and arches a brow in disbelief. He snorts and chuckles, believing that the girl is probably a nut job. "Lady, have you got your lions crossed!" he says in a mocking, sly way.

Pumbaa's eyes filled up with solemnity. He couldn't believe his ears! The King of Saeva standing before him! "King?" he falls to his knees before Simba. "Your Majesty. I gravel at your feet" he says modestly and starts kissing Simba's feet. Simba pulls away in discomfort. "Stop that" he says with a grin.

Timon hits his forehead with the palm of his hand. "It's not gravel, it's grovel" he hisses. He grips Pumbaa from the shoulders and force him back on his feet. "And don't!" he nudges Pumbaa at the back of his head in a scolding way. "He is not the King" he says and chuckles lightly. But then he turns at Simba. "Are you?" he says.

"No" says Simba sharply.

"Simba" Nala steps in. Simba turns at her with a strict glare. "No, I'm not the King. Maybe I was gonna be, but that was a long time ago" he states.

"Let me get this straight. You're the king? And you never told us?" says Timon.

"Look, I'm still the same guy"

"But with power" Timon makes a gesture of grandeur.

"Could you guys excuse us for a few minutes?" Nala kindly requires from the two fellows with a charming smile of innocence covering her lips. Too bad Timon is resistant to this kind of things and the only opinion he respects is his own. "Hey, whatever she has to say, she can say in front of us" he says and spreads an arm around Pumbaa's shoulders in a gesture of union. He later turns at Simba. "Right, Simba?". Simba grins shyly. "Mm... Maybe you'd better go" he says and Timon's jaw drops open in a baffled expression once more. He raises his hands in the air in protest. "It starts. You think you know a guy..." he mumbles complainingly. Pumbaa shakes his head in a disapproving way and later the two fellows take their leave.

Simba chuckles. "Timon and Pumbaa. You learn to love 'em" he says. When he glances at Nala her head is lowered and her face is shadowed by a great sadness. "Nala? What? What is it?" he whispers, worried and caring, as he approaches to take a better look at her. "It's like you're back from the dead" she whispers. She lifts her gaze and meets Simba's. She takes his breath away. "You don't know how much this will mean to everyone. What it means to me".

"Hey, it's okay" he whispers with a soft, soothing smile and he places a comforting hand on her arm. Then Nala threw her arms around him in a tender embrace and nuzzled her head against Simba's neck. "I've really missed you" she whispered. Simba wrapped his arms around her body and hugged her back, holding her tightly yet gently. Safely and lovingly, the way he wished to hold her all those years now. "I missed you too" he whispers against her ear and nuzzles his hair in her golden hair, feeling her smoothness, taking in her sweet scent that made him feel like home. He wants to keep her in his arms forever, as if he lets her go he would lose her forever. And if he loses her again it will feel like dying a thousand deaths. And then he remembered. He felt it all over again. He remembered how much he _loved_ her. And from the way she was holding him against her, the way her hands were clenching his shoulders, determined not to have him forever...he knew she loved him too.

And there they remained. Embraced, entangled in a web of unspoken words and vows of love, safe in a world of their own where there was nothing to disturb them. Where there was no evil. Just the two of them.

* * *

Timon scoffs. He and Pumbaa were hiding behind a curtain of palm leaves and were spying on Simba and Nala. "I tell ya, Pumbaa, this stinks!" he says with a frown and pushes away the palm leaves in protest. "Oh, sorry" says Pumbaa with a shy grin. "Not you, THEM!" Timon points at the werelion couple who is now taking its leave. "Him...Her...alone" he says with a sly voice and makes a silly gesture with his hands. "What's wrong with that?" says Pumbaa.

"I can see what's happening" Timon sings.

"What?" Pumbaa asks.

"And they don't have a clue".

"Who?"

"They'll fall in love and here's the bottom line: our trio's down to two".

"Oh"

"The sweet caress of twilight" that time his voice gets all sarcastic and saccharine. "There's magic everywhere. And with all this romantic atmosphere, disaster's in the aiiiiiiir!".

* * *

Simba couldn't wait to share with Nala all the picturesque miracles which his new homeland was harboring and re-discover them all for the very first time with her. They explored the jungle to its very depth, admiring the beauty of the vegetation, the peaceful nature of the animals and its sweet, harmonic atmosphere. This place was like no other. It was pure, vibrant and serene. It was the perfect for two hurt creatures like them to stop and rest their tired souls. And the perfect place for the romance of two young lovers to bloom.

Simba eventually showed Nala his favorite place in the jungle: the pool in which Timon, Pumbaa and himself go for swim. They stopped by the poolside in order to relax and drink some water. Simba is in awe of Nala more than any other sight that the landscape has to offer. Every move she makes is magic to his eyes, from the way she leans forwards and fills her palms with water to the way she closes her eyes lightly in order to enjoy the feeling and taste of the cool liquid on her tongue. She looked so angelic with her glowing snow white skin, her soft expression and her golden waterfall of hair, and all these wrapped up in the package of black leather top and skirt. She is like a warrior angel. An enchanting sight and yet so much more underneath the surface. Simba had sensed the inner turmoil Nala had gone through back when she referred to the stampede. Mufasa's death must had caused a lot of sorrow in the pride, the loss of an Alpha is like losing a part of your heart. _And Simba is responsible for all the pain that Nala and all of their pride suffered._ He wants to tell her the truth, to release himself from the burden his was carrying since that dreadful day at the gorge, but fear is holding back his tongue. If he tells her what he has done, Nala will never look at him again. How can he be the man she loves when he is also the one responsible for her greatest distress? He loves her too much – selfishly – to subdue to morality. After all, he's been hiding this secret for nearly half of his life. It has rooted so deep in him that he doesn't know if he will ever be free of that.

Nala lifts her gaze up and glances at Simba. His troubled look worries her. She can sense that he is hiding something, that there something which torments him. But he is not letting it show. Why doesn't he let her in? What is it so bad that she can't help him? Doesn't he already know that there is nothing she wouldn't do for him? And there is nothing that can scare her. Not anymore, not after living a decade in Scar's hell. Bad deeds happen but they don't change who we really are if we don't let them. Nala knows the kind of heart Simba owns. He is an Alpha, and not just by blood. Because he is brave and strong, noble and virtual. A gift bestowed to very few chosen ones by the gods themselves; once you are given this gift you can never lose it. So why won't Simba be the King she knows he is? The King she sees inside?

Simba turns to look at her and offers her a smirk. He gets up and stands by the edge of the pool. Nala gazes at him rather confused for a moment and then...she watches him speeding up and jumping in the water with a spectacular maneuver in the air. He disappears under the surface for rather a long time that Nala begins to worry that he drowned himself! She gets close to the edge and looks at the shimmering blue waters for any sign of him. The next she knows is Simba emerging, grabbing her and pulling her into the water with him! Nala surfaces with a gasp and gets to the shore as quickly as possible, looking like a wet cat. Simba laughs as he gets out of the pool and comes to sit next to her. Nala smirks at him, he gives him a good push and he falls back in.

When Simba re-surfaces, Nala is waiting for him by the poolside, wearing her most mischievous smirk. She shifts to a lioness and with a playful nod of her head, she dares Simba to chase her. Simba gladly accepts the challenge and shifts to a lion. And from that moment on, the rest of the evening evolves to an endless party! It was the spark the two fellows needed to remember what a good time they have each time they are together!

They run through the fields of high grass until the night finally falls. They play under the pale moonlight the way they used to when they were young. The two lions stand at their rear feet and feign to fight, their movements so graceful and leisure that they look as if they are dancing. Suddenly Nala looses her balance accidentally, resulting to her falling off the edge and taking Simba down with her. They roll down the side of the hill, entangled in a big fur-ball, until they eventually land safely on a soft pile of grass at the foot of the hill. Their rolling trip and the way of landing earned Simba the win since he ended up on top of Nala. The game is over, so they shift. Having back their human voice, they use it to laugh as loud as their lungs can carry them.

Simba was smiling like a champion! He had finally won, he had finally bested her at this game! His shuts his eyes and laughs in overjoy until he feels his chest getting heavy. And then he felt it. Nala's hands bracing his neck and the sweetest, softest, most divine sensation of all caressing the skin of his cheek. _Nala had just kissed him!_ His eyes open widely and he turns to face her. She is calm, the muscles of her body relaxed and still under the touch of his palms, while her head rests against a pillow of green weeds. Her mouth shapes the softest of smiles and her eyes glisten a spark like no other. Willing, mesmerized and surrendered. Simba smiles in true happiness for once in a ages. Nala's gaze captivates him, pulls him, and he leans his face closer to hers. His breath caresses the skin of her face, their lips only an inch away, their hearts beating in sync as one.

"I love you" he whispers in absolute clarity.

"I love you" she whispers back.

They seal their lips with a never-ending kiss and get lost to the oblivion of passion. And so, on this night, under the silver lunar glow, upon a bed of weeds, two broken souls come to mend each other. Two soul-mates, bound by the bonds of true love and the fates of the Alphas, mate for the first time and consummate their love. From now till the hour of their death they are one, and regardless of what adversities life may bring, their bond will survive. The one is now a part of the other, two hearts, one soul and one mutual fate.

* * *

" _And if he falls. In love tonight. It can be assumed..."_

" _His carefree days. With us are history"_

" _In short, our pal. Is doomed!"_

* * *

 **Oh my God guys! This is my favorite chapter from what I've written so far! You see...Simba and Nala** **were** **the ultimate OTP (One True Pairing for the ones who don't know XD) of my childhood and I believe they will always remain one of my top 10 favorite** **fictional** **couples** **of all times! So you can imagine my happiness when I was writing this chapter! Now I just have to hope that you'll share it with me. :-)**


	9. Remember

**HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU!**

Simba and Nala were inseparable for the next couple of days, spending every minute in their disposal by doing anything they wished, making up for the lost time that way. Lost in the haze of love, they allowed themselves to put aside their problems for awhile and enjoy their happiness. But...as we all know...all good things must come to an end eventually. And some matters are just too critical to avoid them forever.

The couple is taking a walk by the stream this afternoon. The colors of dusk colors the sky with a lovely shade of orange-pink and the smooth sunlight caresses the waters flowing down the sides of the cliffs. The wild vegetation of the jungle looks sweeter under this lighting, taking her beauty to a new level. "Isn't this a great place?" says Simba. Nala gazes around in admiration "It is beautiful" she says, but her expression changes quickly to a skeptical frown. "But I don't understand something" she turns at him. "You've been alive all this time" Simba lowers his head as he senses what is coming next. "Why didn't you come back to Pride Rock?".

"Well" he pauses. Lying to Nala gives him no pleasure but since the truth will do much more damage than good, he has no other choice. He can't risk it. "I just needed to get out on my own, live my own life. And I did" he finally chooses to say and it's only half a lie – even though he was unaware of this at the beginning, he soon realized that he was indeed in great need of living a life of his own choosing. He casually hopes on a nearby hammock of vines, the plants slightly swing as he moves, and he rests his head back with an expression of tranquility painted across his symmetrical features. "And it's great".

"We've really needed you at home" says Nala with a sad tone in her voice.

"No one needs me" says Simba with a grin. Nala's face hardens, her blue eyes sharp as daggers. "Yes, we do. You're the King" she says in her most severe voice. "Nala we've been through this" Simba snaps. "I'm not the King. Scar is". The figure of Scar as the wise and impressive man Simba grew to know continued to live in his memory, and since he was the one who helped him take the right decision after his father's death had overwhelmed him completely – he offered him a way out instead of a punishment for what he'd done, which is what anyone else would do in this case – Simba had no reason to believe that Scar wouldn't know what to do when he would be given the position of the ruler. Simba was convinced that Scar would make a better King than himself, that he was the one the kingdom and the pride needed and deserved.

But Nala knows better. She has witnessed first-hand what the cruelty and the madness of Scar can do. She was forced to see her people starve, weaken and being disgraced, her home turning to a decimated field of bones and ash. She, herself, had suffered a lot because of that ruthless monster. She had reached starvation more times than she could count and the only reason why she was still alive is because she had disciplined herself so as she can be endurable in these conditions. The uncouth ways of the werehyenas forced her to spend her formative years in a bullying and horrific environment. But apparently the news of the world's destruction haven't reached the exile.

Nala places her elbows on the hammock, next to Simba, and she looks him straight in the eye. When she speaks the next words, her voice is unshakable, cold and serious to the point of petrifying. "Simba, he let the werehyenas take over the Pride Lands".

"What?!" Simba can't believe his ears.

"Everything is destroyed. There is no food, no water" she says. She bows her head but that doesn't hide the fire of mourning and rage that burns on the glass-like surfaces of her eyes.

Simba is left speechless. Scar would never do that. How could he? How could he let his land being violated like that? How could he betray his people, the legacy of his brother, by forcing an alliance with those fouls creatures? Simba denies to believe that his uncle is capable of such actions...but the look of genuine hatred on Nala's face and the clarity of her words are enough to make him question everything he thought he knew.

Nala takes her arms off the hammock and stands in a severe posture. "Simba, if you don't do something soon, everyone will starve" she says. Simba turns away from her and frowns. "I can't go back" he says. "Why?" Nala demands to know. Simba hopes off the hammock and walks away. "You won't understand" he says. "What won't I understand?!" Nala begs him to talk to her.

Simba shakes his head. "No, no, it doesn't matter. Hakuna Matata" he simply states. Speaking the motto of the Strays is something that comes naturally to him now. It was the answer he was seeking to all his problems and the remedy to all his torments. Nala makes a puzzled face. "What?" she says.

"Hakuna Matata. It's something I learned out here" Simba explains. "Look, sometimes bad things happen..."

"Simba!"

"...and there's nothing you can do about it. So, _w_ _hy worry_?".

Simba walks away from her again. "Because it's your responsibility!" Nala bites spitefully and goes after him. Simba turns around and glares at her. "Well, what about you? You left" he bites back. "I left to find help! And I found you" Nala snaps. "Don't you understand? You're our _only_ hope". She is desperately trying to knock some sense into him but all her attempts are in vein. Simba's glare grows wider. "Sorry" he says sharply and insensitively.

Nala is thrown off by his dogmatic attitude. She narrows her eyes, trying to peruse him. It seems strange to her; he looks so much like the person she knows and yet he is so different. The old Simba was stubborn, but he would never run away from his duty. This one is tough and unfeeling, selfish and distant. "What's happened to you? You're not the Simba I remember" she says.

"You're right, I'm not. Now are you satisfied?" says Simba roughly.

"No, just disappointed" Nala replies with a glare of her own. He brings his face closer to hers in a menacing way and shoot an angry look at her. "You know you're starting to sound like my father" he hisses and then turns away – running away from Nala's judgment, from the hardships, from the past...from everything. "Good" she says. "At least one of us does".

That is the last drop. Nala finds the nasty nerve and strikes hard. The truth stings Simba like hell, it hurts and infuriates him. He turns around and come on Nala with great tension, his eyes two red pyres burning with fury. "Listen, you think you can just show up and tell me how to live my life? You don't even know what I've been through!" he snaps.

"I would if you just tell me!"

"Forget it!"

"Fine!"

Simba takes off in a huff and Nala is left behind to boil in her own anger.

* * *

Simba is walking in circles, trying to put his mind at ease. "She's wrong" he says in a huff, thinking out loud. "I can't go back. What would it prove, anyway? You can't change the past". He subconsciously raises his hurt gaze to the night sky, the stars staring back at him. "You said you'd always be there for me!" he no longer talks to himself. He calls to the heavens, he addresses to the souls who are claimed to reside up there. _He calls for his father._ "But you're not" there is a sadness in his voice that can't be described in simple words. He bows his head in a sign of remorse, the long locks of his brownish-golden hair fall in front of his face like a curtain hiding away his ashamed existence. "It's because of me. It's my fault. It's my fault" he feels his own words choking him, an unbearable weight burdening his heart and a sob surfaces from his lungs. Tears burn the back of his eyes, crushing like the waves of the sea on the rocks on the beach, but doesn't shed them; he doesn't consider himself worthy of mourning Mufasa. The pain of remorse cuts him worse than any blade could and he is bleeding endlessly.

Simba remains trapped in this gloomy state for a while until something – actually _someone_ – manages to catch his attention and pull him out of his thoughts. A bizarre noise, unfitted in this place, echoes from somewhere deep in the jungle and tingles Simba's extremely keen hearing. "Asante sana Squash banana, wewe nugu mimi hapana". It's a song, a strange rhythm in a foreign to Simba language which sounds like the chants the kin of the druids used to sing. The werelion lad turns his head around and his gaze rests on a spot between the trees. Overcoming the limits of darkness, his hyper red eyes form the lean and arched figure of an old man standing on top of a tree with a cane in his hand. He is laughs and hums this weird tune while he is plays with the vines hanging from the branches, making them dance to the rhythm of his song. Simba grins derogatorily at the sight of the old man acting like a fool and he takes off.

Rafiki continues to sing as he uses a vine to get off the tree and step his feet back on the ground. He stares at the young man walking away in the distance. He is the same as the vision. Tall and the structure of his body is strong, ripped, indicating a warrior. His long brownish-golden hair whip his face when the wind blows through them. He wears a black leather armor that covers his back, the exterior part of his arms and his legs – the armor of his pride – leaving his chest and torso bared. His skin still has the wheaten color of the Pride Landers but is also darkened by a light layer of sunburn from his time at the oasis. Looking pass the melancholic aura that follows him around and the little changes that life had drawn on him, there was no doubt that this was Mufasa's boy. _You look just like your old man, lad_ , Rafiki thought and smiled.

Simba moved a bit further so as he won't be disturbed by the old man's shenanigans. He sits by the riverside and stares at his reflection in the water. The reflection of a broken and damaged young man with nothing left to hold on to; no love, no family, nothing. Suddenly a pebble is being thrown into the water causing waves to spread across Simba's reflecting face. Simba looks baffled at the water for a moment but then he hears that stupid song again: "Asante sana Squash banana, wewe nugu mimi hapana". He turns around and what he sees? The old man – a druid, judging by his clothes and his obvious unstable sanity – is hanging from a branch of a tree, dangling over Simba's head. "Come on. Will you cut it out?" he says with a frown. "Can't cut it out. It grow right back!" says the druid with a funny accent. He laughs, he performs a swing in the air and then lands perfectly on the ground. _He moves surprisingly good for someone at his age. The magic tricks of the druids, perhaps_ Simba thinks.

Simba stands up and departs once again, in search of some peace and solitude. The footsteps and the loud hysterical laughter of the old druid come after him. "Creepy little humanoid" Simba mumbles in a huff. The old man is now walking right past next to him. "Will you stop following me? Who are you?" he snaps. With a swift movement of his feet, the old man comes to stand right in front of Simba, blocking his way. He leans his head close to the lad's face and shoots him an examining look. Simba takes a cautious step back, sensing a sort of violation of his privacy. "The question is _who_ are _you_?" says the old man with a crooked smile.

Simba's jaw drops open as the druid's words leave him astonished. His face turns to a contemplative expression as the cogs of his mind are put to work and a hurricane of self-reflecting thoughts begin to swirl in his head. Through this chaos, Simba manages to catch only broken pieces of the glass statues that represent different people and personalities, jagged pieces that don't fit together. From the one hand there is the prince, the one born and raised to be a leader, the one who's fate was to become the Alpha of the greatest pride this world has ever known along with the brave and noble King of Saeva. But that statue was shattered when tragedy struck. And at the other hand there is the Stray outcast, the free man with no concerns and the fighter who has no one to defend or fight for except from himself. But that statue had also been wrecked when the memories of a dreadful past sneaked their way into his life and ruined his serenity. So who he really was after all? The man of duty or the wayward warrior? Was he none of them? _Or both?_ "I thought I knew. Now I'm not so sure" he says, his voice distant as though he is lost in a different universe.

"Well, I know who you are" says Rafiki and pulls Simba closer to him, spreading an arm around his broad shoulders, resting his temple on Simba's. "Ssh, come here. It's a secret" he whispers at Simba's ear with a half-naughty voice. The lad is anticipating to hear the extraordinary truth that Rafiki might be holding, a fading light of hope shinning in the depths of his sad red eyes. And then Rafiki starts singing again. "Asante sana Squash banana, wewe nugu mimi hapana". Simba pushes him away with an annoyed glare. "Enough already! What is that supposed to mean anyway?" he snaps. "It means you're crazy and I'm not" says Rafiki and starts laughing hysterically.

Simba scoffs, gives him a scornful look and attempts to walk away again. "I think you're a little confused" he hisses. As if on cue, he feels pressure being forced against his head and when he turns his red look forward, he finds the old druid standing in front of him, his finger slammed against his forehead and a mischievous smile covering his face. Simba shoots him a death glare. "Wrong! I'm not the one who's confused. You don't even know who you are!" the old man sneers. Simba snatches his boney skinny and wrinkled finger and removes it violently from his face. "Oh and I suppose you know?" he says angrily. He attempts to take another step, trying to get away from this upsetting creature – another disturbance that the universe had decided to throw to him in order to mentally torment him – but the next words that come out of the druid's mouth make him stiffen at his place. "Sure do. You're Mufasa's boy!" the way the druid tells it – the confidence, the pride, the admiration – almost make it seem unreal. For a second, Simba believes he is dreaming, that this crazy-looking man didn't just spoke his father name, that he'd never recognized him. But it is really happening. Simba remains as still as a statue, feeling as though his heart has stop beating, his body has lost all senses. He spuns around instantly and stares at the old man with his jaw dropped open but his lips empty of words. He is left speechless, stunned, baffled and everything in between. The druid flashes a smile. "Bye!" he says and before Simba can blink his eye, he's gone.

"Hey wait!" Simba cries out. He doesn't waste a second in thinking about it and he starts chasing him. It's ironic how like a moment ago he wanted nothing more than to be left alone and now that the druid had finally run off he is desperate to go after him, and how this guy who looked like a major lunatic was actually being truthful all the time. Simba runs faster than the speed of light, he strides over the fields of grass and the bridge that passes over the stream, until he finally catches up with the druid. He finds him sitting on top of a rock, his legs crossed, his arms open to the sides and he shapes small circles by connecting his index finger and thumb, his eyes shut in an expression of serenity. _He looks as if he is meditating._ "You knew my father?" he says with a heavy breath. It's odd that he is breathing heavily, he doesn't feel tired. _Can emotion be this powerful that it takes his breath away?_ "Correction. I _know_ you're father" says the old man with a severe voice – it's the first time since they met that Simba sees him being serious – while his eyes remain shut. Simba closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he feels the rising waves of pain suffocating him from the inside once again. "I hate to tell you this but he died. A long time ago" he said with a hurt and grieving voice.

"Nope! Wrong again!" Rafiki exclaims with his more familiar perky tone and with one swift movement he's hoped off the rock. He still grips his cane tightly in his hand. "He's alive and I will show him to you! You follow old Rafiki. He knows the way!" and with that he disappears within the heart of the jungle.

Simba stares baffled at the void that the druid left behind for a moment but then he feels his feet moving forward by instinct. He gazes at the endlessly dark and trackless depths of the jungle and then glances one last time at the place he has grown to call home. The passing thought of returning to the safety and certainty which it provides and forgetting that the events of this night ever occurred passes by his mind but it disappears as quickly as it appeared. A very strong voice at the back of his head screams: _no more hiding, no more running, it's time to face what you dread most._ And so he made his decision. He partly shifts so as he will run the fastest he can and he will be able to see in the dark with his hyper vision. And like diving into the waters of a deep black sea, he took a deep vital breath and stormed into the unknown.

This part of the jungle is dangerous and difficult to traverse, with too thick vegetation, a major obstacle course of tree roots and vines and almost non-existent light. The journey might not be easy at all but Simba is strong, flexible and endurable so he manages to overcome the obstacles in his way despite the difficulties. But there is a problem; he can't find Rafiki anywhere in this mayhem of nature. He searches and searches with his hyper vision but he is nowhere inside his vision field. He might not be able to see him...but he as sure as hell can hear him! He hears his laughter echoing through the jungle like an unearthly music and he realizes it comes from somewhere high. Moving a curtain of spiderwebs and leafage away from his face, he lifts his gaze up. He finds Rafiki standing on a branch over his head, a wide mischievous smile stretching from the one side of his mouth to the other. He grips the cane with the beautiful spheres so tight that has grown to look like an extension of his hand. Rafiki urges Simba to hurry, and before the latter can take another breath, he's moved to the next tree. "Hey wait!" Simba cries out to him as he starts running after him again. "Come on! Come on!" Rafiki urges. He performs a jump to the next tree, moving faster than any human at this age, and Simba struggles to keep up with his pace. It's astounding and almost funny how the prince – the champion of power – of werelions has a difficulty in catching an old mortal druid. _The old fellow cheats, because he gets help from the heaven's magic._

"Can you slow down?!" Simba cries out but his words must fall to deaf ears. At this very moment he feels the earth relenting from under his feet, the gravity pulls him down and he ends up falling to the ground. Vines get entangled around his arms along the way but thankfully he manages to quickly place his hands to the ground so as to lessen the force of the impact and not hurt his face against the hard solid surface. The rubbles scratch his palms, pain bites the area of his knees and he is left with the bitter taste of unwelcome surprise but he quickly recovers and continues to march, driven to the right direction by the out of tune melody that is Rafiki's laughter. Simba continues to run through the dark labyrinth of grim trees, accepting occasional whips in the head by branches and vines from now and then, watching Rafiki jumping from tree to tree, appearing and disappearing from his field of sight like flashes of thunders in a stormy sky.

Suddenly Simba loses all sights of him for a long period of time. As he begins to worry that he is running lost, heading straight to a dead end, a hand juts out from within a wall of plants and Rafiki's head follows a moment later. "Stop!" he commands and Simba manages to slow down and freeze at place just an inch before his face crashes onto Rafiki's palm. The old man narrows his eyes, he brings his index finger to his lips and makes a hushing sound. He steps next to a row of high grass and moves it aside like a curtain. "Look down there" he indicates with a meaningful smile.

Simba collects his courage and slowly approaches Rafiki. He glances at the old druid and the latter nods in reassurance. Simba gulps, his heart races in his chest. He moves past the high grass and slowly steps towards what Rafiki had gotten into so much trouble to show him. It turns out to be a waterhole, the werelion lad walks to the edge and peers inside. At the mirror of those crystal waters is being reflected his own figure; two big circles red as fire and as bright as the morning sun stare back at him. Simba frowns in disappointment. "That's not my father" he says, his second self in the water copying every single one of his movements. He stretches his body and fixes his posture. "That's just my reflection".

Rafiki comes to stand beside him, he places a hand on the back of Simba's neck. Simba looks at him. "No. Look harder" says Rafiki, his voice deep and somehow mystical. The old man touches the waters with his skinny finger and Simba observes as cyclical waves begin to form at the surface. He leans over the hole and stares at the liquid mirror again, but as Rafiki told him to now he looks harder. At the beginning Simba doesn't notice any differences, his reflection is still the same. The same face structure, the same long blond hair, the same black armor, the same eyes narrowed in curiosity. But slowly the cyclical waves start doing strange things to his reflection, they magically change it...No. _They transform it!_ Now the face that stares back at Simba is not his own. Its features are more mature, its edges are sharper and an expression of major superiority and intense severity cover it from side to side. But still the hair are the same brownish-golden colour as Simba's and the eyes have an identical shape and colour. It's the face of a man whom Simba believed he would never have the chance to see in this lifetime. _Mufasa!_ "You see? He lives in you" says Rafiki softly but Simba is speechless.

 _Simba_

It echoes from above. A voice soft like a whisper but which radiates so much power that can make the world quake. Everything from the accent to the timbre is all too familiar to the werelion lad. At first Simba believes it's just a figment of his imagination, a hopeful fantasy, but then a sensation unlike any other wakes up inside his system. A shiver travels up and down his spine, an alarming feeling like when he senses the presence of another living being. And he's not the only one who feels it. The nature around him reacts to the change too; the wind blows harder, the sky darkens and thunders boom. Simba lifts his gaze to the heavens. "Father?" he whispers.

Before the awe-struck eyes of Simba, the clouds and the stars descent from the skies. The strong winds capture the divine material and weave it to the shape of a man as grand as a mountain. Threads of light are entangled around the foggy statue, giving some sort of substance to his angles and his curves, making it look like a real living being. The two brightest stars in the sky take their place at the top representing his all-seen eyes. Now the unearthly creation is complete; a carnation, a ghost, a vision. _Mufasa._ Mufasa opens his clouds-made mouth and speaks, the voice which echoes is louder than any thunder and with more depth than the music of any drum can create. "Simba you have forgotten me".

"No. How could I?" says Simba, still too astonished by the miracle that occurs. The wind blows through his hair and makes them dance like snakes around his face, framing his angles.

"You have forgotten who you are and so have forgotten me" says Mufasa, his words daggers of solemnity. "Look inside yourself Simba. You are more than what you have become" it looks as though a disapproving grimace flashes across Mufasa's face. "You must take your place in the Circle of life".

"How can I go back? I'm not who I used to be" Simba is pleading for guidance, for clarity, for answers.

Gradually, colours of immense vibrancy begin to paint Mufasa's ghost until it is transformed to a depiction of his alive self. His fangs are bared, his claws are projecting from his fingertips, fur can be seen covering the sides of his face, neck and chest and a magnificent brownish-golden mane flows in the form of watercourse from his head. _The lion and the man united, existing as one in the afterlife._ Mufasa's eyes bright the most divine glow. Simba can't help himself but stare in absolute wonderment. "Remember who you are. You are my son and the one true King. Remember who you are" these words of great significance are the last guidance's offer of Mufasa towards his son. His colours begin to fade and the clouds start to drift away, they want to return to their home to the sky. But Simba is not ready to let his father go again. "No! Please! Don't leave me!" he cries in despair. He begins to run again, he chases after the ghost of his father. He knows it's in vein, his father is no longer in his grasp, but it still kills him to watch him go away for the second time. As the form of Mufasa in the sky disappears, one word keeps echoing to the atmosphere and in Simba's head: _Remember._ "Father!" Simba calls out. _Remember_ is his reply. "Don't leave me" Simba begs but ultimately he gives up.

 _Remember._

 _Goodbye dad._

One last light breeze swoons over the tiny bodies of the high grass, Simba's gaze remains frozen to the sight of the heavens above. "What was _that_?" says Rafiki as he comes to stand next to Simba and he lets out a small laughter. "The weather - Pbbbah! Very peculiar. Don't you think?" he adds with a meaningful tone lingering in his voice. "Yeah. Looks like the winds are changing" says Simba contemplatively. " Ahhh. Change is good" says Rafiki and strokes the white fluff of his beard in a thoughtful gesture. "Yeah but it's not easy" Simba adds with a grin.

A million thoughts are dancing restlessly around his mind at the moment. He feels as if his eyes have been opened widely but also at the same time that one small thread of fear is still holding onto his heart. "I know what I have to do. But going back means I'll have to face my past" he is more talking to himself than Rafiki, he is saying his thoughts out loud so as they can make sense, so as he can find a solution. He didn't know what a self-revelation truly meant until now. "I've been running from it for so long". And at that very moment a banging sound was heard and a great deal of pain strikes Simba's skull. _Rafiki had just hit him in the head with his cane!_ "Ow!" he exclaims. "Geez, what was that for?" he shoots a death glare at the wacky old fellow. Rafiki throws his hands in the air in a expressive gesture. "It doesn't matter. It's in the past" he says and laughs. Simba rubs the top of his head where the cane hit him. "Yeah, but it still hurts" he says with a grin. He subconsciously tests the inner part of his hand for blood – that's how hard the strike was! But thankfully the crazy man did not manage to crack open his skull with his shenanigans.

Rafiki places a comforting hand on Simba's back. "Oh yes, the past can hurt" he says, his voice lacking his usual cheer and being more serious. And then it's back. "But from the way I see it, you can either run from it or –" he smirks "– learn from it". He attempts to hit Simba again with the cane but this time the lad is prepared and he instinctively ducks out of the way. Rafiki smiles in triumph. "Ha. You see? So what are you going to do?" he says with a smirk. Simba gives him a menacing grin. "First, I'm gonna take your stick" he hisses and before Rafiki has any chance at reacting, Simba takes a grip of the cane and tosses it away.

"No, no, no, no, not the stick!" Rafiki exclaims and rushes to picks it up. When he turns his head around to face Simba, he is running away. "Hey, where you going?" he calls out. Simba begins to shift. " I'm going back!" he shouts before he shifts entirely at a lion. "Good! Go on! Get out of here!" Rafiki bellows and ends up screeching loudly in exhiliration.

And so he runs free to the far horizon, a proud, wild and untameable lion, finally free of all restraints and fear. He marches with an aim and he is determined to make it. He is unstoppable.

* * *

Timon and Pumbaa are enjoying a little late morning nap. They are lying on their opposite beddings, both snoring rhythmically, murmuring random things in the haze of sleep. Nala approaches the two sleeping friends with caution. She doesn't want to upset them, especially after their nasty first encounter, but this is important. She had lost touch with Simba since their fight and she was starting to get worried. She didn't know what he'd do, how he'd act...and she just wanted to see him again. She wanted to talk to him, to make things right.

She nudged Timon at the shoulder lightly. "Hey" she whispered so as not to wake him up too roughly. "Hey wake up".

Timon lazily cracks his eyelids open and some drool falls off the side of his lip. His vision is not yet used to the morning light so when his gaze rests on Nala's blue eyes, the only thing his brain does is to wake up the memory of the stone cold blue-eyed lioness who tried to kill them not long ago. Then his eyes open widely and a scream surfaces from his chest. His scream wakes up Pumbaa too who joins in. "Hey, guys it's alright! It's me!" Nala shouts so as to be heard over their screeches. Once the two friends realize that the harmless and friendly Nala is standing before them and not the blood-thirsty lioness, they put their minds at ease. Timon pants. "Don't you ever do that again!" he says "Wild Cats" he slams a palm against his forehead. Nala rolls her eyes and sighs. "Have you guys seen Simba?" she asks softly. Timon gives her a puzzled look. "I thought he was with you" he says. "He was but now I can't find him. Where is he?".

As if on cue a laughter echoed from above, causing Nala to lift her gaze. The sound is familiar, although she never expected to meet this fellow here. She sees Rafiki – the old druid who had always been a dear friend to the pride and a helping hand at the difficult times they lived in – sitting on the branch of a near tree, the cane with the secret spheres attached to his hand. "You won't find him here" he says and chuckles. "The King... has returned" he takes a bow, a gesture of respect. Nala's eyes shine overjoyed, the corner of her lips twitch at a hearty smile. "I can't believe it. He's gone back!" she says in a burst of exhilaration – an emotion she hadn't felt in a really long time.

Timon grins and gets up with a hop. "Gone back? What do you mean?" he says. He glances at the tree where a weird old guy was sitting a moment ago but now the branch is empty. "Hey! What's going on here? Who's the grandpa?" he snaps, both arms stretched, pointing at the tree. "Simba's gone back to challenge Scar" says Nala.

"Who?"

"Scar"

"Who's got a scar?" Pumbaa adds himself in the parody of communication/conversation.

"No, no, no. It's his uncle"

"The monkey's his uncle?"

"No!" Nala snaps, hushing both of them. She gives them her most serious look. "Simba's gone back to challenge his uncle to take his place as King".

"Ohh" say the two friends in synch.


	10. May The Drums of War Echo

**Hello again everyone! I'm terribly sorry for taking so long to upload but I've been over the top busy these past few months and I didn't have much time for writing. Also...I wanted to make the big battle scene and the finale as great as possible. I hope I did it right. :-) As usual, thank you for all your support and pls don't be shy to leave me a review on this chapter. ;-) Enjoy!**

* * *

The majestic lion can feel the heat caressing his fur as he is pacing through the dessert, running faster than the speed of light, the sun flashing a bright smile at him as he makes his way through the endless fields of tropical desolation. The last time Simba followed this course he was lost and weakened, he didn't know where he should go or what he should do next, but now he is a whole new person. A reborn man baptized in the holy waters of strength, a weapon forced on the steal of determination and a warrior with a life-crucial cause to fulfill. He knows exactly who he is, what his purpose is and where his heart belongs. Every fiber of his being is drawn by this place, leading him closer and closer by the minute to the Pride Lands. _His one true homeland._ _He had finally realized_ _that this was_ _the_ _truth._

Finally, after a few-days journey, Simba arrives at the Pride Lands. Or...at least what has left from it. From the moment he steps his foot at the grassland domain, horror strikes him and death and emptiness welcome him. Bones and rotten remains of long now deceased creatures (both animals and shape-shifters) lie on the sore ground, making a creepy sound as they crack under Simba's feet. The once rich vegetation of the grassland has now withered away, allowing to the Pride Lands to turn into an endless dessert of bleakness. Thick layers of dark and ominous clouds cover the sky, drowning even the tiniest shred of sunlight.

The sight is getting worse and more horrific with each new step, each more careful look. Simba marches through the void and darkness-consumed fields, feeling his heart breaking a little more in the process. He can't believe his eyes, he can't handle the fact that all this destruction is real. He keeps walking until the ground runs out. He stands by the edge of a cliff, lifts his gaze...and the view he faces makes every drop of blood in his veins turn to ice. He freezes in place and lets out a terror-filled gasp as he stares at the miserably looking pile of big pieces of granite in the middle of a decimated place. _It's the Pride Rock!_ He always remembered the Pride Rock to be a miracle of nature, a fascinating location full of warmth and vividness. Now it looked like a throne that had lost his King and had being trampled over by ravagers.

The kingdom and home of Simba has been completely perished and there is only one to blame. _Scar. Nala was right!_ As the pieces begin to come together and the realization forms in Simba's mind, the purest form of hatred overwhelms him, starting a fire in his soul and making his blood boil with raw rage. Nala was right about him, everything she had said were disgustingly true. This damn villain not only did he betray his pride by becoming an ally of these foul curs but he had allowed them to take over the Pride Lands and consume it like the fires of hell! In such sort time he had destroyed everything the werelions' pride spent eons to build and what Mufasa fought his entire lifetime to preserve. _How had I not seen it before?!_ Simba curses from the inside. The lying and treacherous bastard had taken advantage of him at his worst moment, when he was grief-stricken and confused and had manipulated him into running away from the Pride Lands. He didn't want him in the way when he would destroy it, because he knew that Simba would never let this happen. He would rather die than stand idle while his kingdom is being violated in such horrid way. He would fought Scar with everything he had in order to defend his people, his home, Mufasa's legacy. He might failed to fight for the Pride Lands and the kingdom of Saeva the first time but he is not going to repeat the past mistakes. He might is a little late but he is determined to take back what is his and protect it by any cost. With one determined and wrath-filled glare at the ruins of the Pride Rock, Simba swears to save his home and his people by their terrible fate and take his revenge on Scar for everything he's done. He will make him pay with his blood for all his sins.

An all too familiar roar wakes him up from his thoughts and forces him to turn his look away from the misery and glance behind. A proud lioness with glowing blue eyes approaches Simba with quick strides, her golden fur being the only blessed ray of sunlight in this gray and darkened realm. By the time he has blinked his fiery red eyes, Nala has shifted back to her human form and is now calling out to him: "Simba! Wait up!". She rushes towards him and comes to stand next to him. She glances at the same pathetic sight Simba was gazing a few moments ago and a cloud of sadness shades her pale porcelain features. "It's awful, isn't it?" she says bitterly. Simba shakes his head. "I didn't want to believe you" he confesses. Nala turns to look at him. "What made you change your mind?" she cares to know. Simba forces a light smile. "I finally got some sense knocked into me" he says. A chuckle escapes his lips and grins at the memory of the unbelievable experience. "And I've got the bump to prove it" he points at the spot on his skull where Rafiki's cane had landed, feeling the sting of pain still fresh upon his skin.

He took a vigorous step forward and stared at the horizon again, but this time his gaze flared powerful, dauntless, ready. "Besides, this is my kingdom. If I don't fight for it, who will?" he says in total clarity, accepting his destiny and his responsibilities. Nala took a step forward of her own and stood proudly by her true Alpha, a soldier ready to go to war and determined to win. "I will" she declares seriously. Simba turns at her. "It's going to be dangerous" he warns, even though he knows it's not going to stop her. Nala smirks at him, her eyes sparkle. "Danger? Huh! I laugh at the face of danger. Ha ha ha!" she imitates a snarky, bravado-filled, ego-maniac little boy that Simba used to know in another lifetime.

As if on cue, the sound of a third party's voice reached Simba's eardrums. A high pitched accent dripping sarcasm. "I see nothing funny about it" Timon states. Simba spins around and his surprised eyes fall on Timon's grinning face. His hands are resting on the sides of his waist in a pose of protest and judging by a quick peruse of his look, Simba guesses that he is probably thinking: "In what mess did we put ourselves into again?!". He knows the risk, the danger, of coming here. Timon is a wereweasel, he is not a person of responsibility nor a soldier, he is no friend of dying – heroically or not. _And yet he was here._ Pumbaa is standing two feet away from his friend. In contrast with Timon, a proud smile decorates the ebony features of his face and his obsidian eyes shine fiercely. "Timon? Pumbaa! What are you doing here?" Simba asks. "At your service, my liege" says Pumbaa respectfully and bows before Simba. Apparently the noble yet rebellious and vagabond werewarthog has finally found what he'd been looking for; a purpose worth fighting for.

Timon walks at where the couple is standing and stares at the view lying beyond. He frowns at the sight of the decimated field with the big tombstone in the middle which the famous Pride Rock has ended up being. "We're gonna fight your uncle... for this?" he says almost scornfully. "Yes, Timon. This is my home" says Simba with a solemn smile. Timon grins slightly. "Whoa. Talk about your fixer-upper" he whispers through gritted teeth so as not to be heard from anyone else. But then he turns at Simba and smiles genuinely. "Well, Simba, if it's important to you" he gestures at the lad "we are with you to the end" he says and for once he tilts his body in a bowing position, paying to Simba the treatment and the respect that fits a King.

Simba smiles in gratitude at all his companions. It is no secret that this battle will be the toughest one to win but he isn't afraid of facing the odds. Not now that he has his best friends and his beloved mate watching his back and fighting by his side. If there was any lack of confidence in him a few moments ago, now it can be considered non-existent.

As the four companions stare at the distance, the blackened clouds begin to gather thicker over the tip of the Pride Rock. A fitting precursor to the bloody events that are about to take place.

* * *

Since the land of ruins was clear of any kind of life it wasn't such a hard task for the company to reach the Pride Rock without being noticed. But in order to get to the heart of the Pride Rock, it is crucial that they move fast, cautiously and smartly. Once they get close to the territory of the enormous granite building, they partly shift, arming themselves with the weapons that mother nature has given them; the gifts of a shape-shifter. Thanks to the feline grace and super speed of the werelions, the wereweasel's ability to hide away from its foes and the werewarthog's natural hunter instinct that provided him with the best camouflaging skills, they manage to become one with the silence, the void and the darkness of this place. Soon they are nothing more than four shadows passing by.

The safest way to sneak into the lion's den is through a secret passage that only the Alphas know of. Mufasa had shared this information with Simba when he was still a little boy at the beginning of his training in case he'd need it someday. And the time has finally come for him to put this precious knowledge at use. According to his father's instructions, it is a path that traverses the rocky side of the grassland and gets you directly at the back of the Pride Rock. At the foothill of the Rock there is a trail that goes all the way up to its spine and in the middle there are two short cuts. Two turns, the one leading to the courtyard of the Pride Rock and the other to the interior of the cave where the pride's chambers were located which later leads to a descent. If they follow this path correctly, they will manage to pass right under Scar's werehyena security's nose.

Simba is leading the team, guiding them through the endless expanse of the rugged part of the grassland. When they get to the are surrounding the Pride Rock, the sight he comes across causes him to get low to the ground and motion his friends to do the same. They hide behind a pile of pieces of stone and they sneak a peek over the tip of their hideout. _There are werehyenas everywhere in here!_ They lie around casually, toying with the bones of their poor victims or occupy themselves with savage activities, looking as though they own the place. "Wereyenas. I hate werehyenas" Timon mumbles, his voice dripping disgust but also fear. Werehyenas don't have a specific taste on their prey but they most definitely are a natural enemy of the wereweasel kin, since the latter is considered one the most coward species on earth while the other is the most bloodthirsty one. The tone of his voice, suggests that Timon has confronted their deadly fangs in the past. The wereweasel man moves closer to Simba and puts his hand next to the corner of his mouth for silence. "So what's the plan for getting past those guys?" he asks with a grin.

"Live bait" Simba whispers.

"Good idea" Timon comments but his smile disappears at the instant he realizes what his friend is actually talking about. "HEY!" he exclaims and shoots an upset glare at Simba. "Come on Timon" Simba hisses sharply. "I need you to cause diversion".

"What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?" says Timon sarcastically and makes a grimace.

"No..." Simba mumbles. "Not exactly".

* * *

 _We are so gonna die_ it's the tune that plays over and over again inside Timon's head as he jumps in front of the werehyenas and cries loud enough so as all of them can hear him: "Hey yo doggies! Yeah you! All of you!" he waves his hands in the air frantically, drawing more attention on him. "Who's into some pork and weasel meat for dinner?!" Pumbaa shouted out, his hands wide open as though he is showing off himself as the world's greatest meal and a playful smile covering the area from the one ear to the other. Every single werehyena present turns around and dozens of menacing yellow eyes devour the two friends' forms. The canine shifters bared their fangs through sinister smiles and rivers of saliva start dripping from the corner of their twitched lips. Waves and waves of fear run through Timon's veins but somehow he manages to stay put and offer them a good show. He just constantly reminds himself that he is doing this for the greater good. For Simba. For everyone. That gives him all the strength he needs in order to carry on.

"Yeah come on, it's an open buffet over here folks!" Timon continued shouting.

"Fresh and juicy for y'all!" Pumbaa added.

"Yummm! A real treat! Come on, come on". The more they insist, the closer the werehyenas get. They walk slowly, in the way of a predator, their eyes glowingly famished. They take a step forward, Timon and Pumbaa take two backwards.

With the corner of his eye, Pumbaa spots Simba and Nala slipping pass the horde of the canine shifters. He offers them a reassuring wink, encouraging them to keep going and Simba nods as a reply. "It's time" he whispers at Timon. The wereweasel shakes his head. "Hey hot shots! If you wanna grab a bite then come and get it!" he yells provokingly. And then the two friends turn around and run as fast as their feet can carry them.

Their loud screams of hysteria echo though the grassland but they soon turn into weasel squeals and warthog growls, followed by hyena roars. Now a mob of wild gods pursue a weasel riding a warthog.

* * *

Once the coast is clear, Simba and Nala hurry themselves to the foothill of the Pride Rock. They run up the trail upon the Rock's granite back, like blood cells running through a big vein. When they reach the crossroads in the middle, they stop and look at each other. "Nala, you find my mother and rally the werelionesses" said Simba in a commanding voice like a high general. "I'll look for Scar" his eyes ignited fiery and furious and he unclenched his fist, exposing his dagger-like claws and revealing his vengeful and determined intentions. Nala shakes her head in agreement, they exchange a meaningful look and then go their separate ways.

She goes to the left. Heading to the cave. Looking to summon the remaining loyal soldiers who are ready to follow the son of Mufasa and fight with him till the end.

He goes to the right. Towards the courtyard. Ready to meet his mortal foe and bring him down once and for all.

Simba strides over the descent towards the courtyard, even sliding with immense caution and skilfulness at some point. He hides behind the stone façade and narrows his eyes, trying to get a better look at what lies before him.

From where he stands he can see the place where the two sharp-edged, blade-like parts of the Pride Rock come to cross very closely. This is the place where the King stands at his public appearances, the throne upon which he sits and watches over his entire kingdom. Simba remembers Mufasa standing at that exact spot, the wind blowing through his golden mane, his posture reflecting unmeasurable strength, while the crowds below shouted in exhilaration for him. The scene couldn't be more different from Simba's memories. Now Scar, the ruinous King, is sitting on the throne and the crowds that are gathered around the Pride Rock are hordes of werehyenas. Just the sight of it makes Simba's blood boil and his hatred to grows more passionate.

" _Sarabiiiii!_ " Scar bellows all of a sudden, his words echo and re-echo like the booming of a thunder. Simba's heart sinks into his chest and he gasps in dread. _Mother_ he thinks. And then he sees her. A pale figure passing through the madding crowd of werehyenas, the features of her face sharpened by the anvil of time and carved into a stone cold, emotionless mask while her body is full of slim and tightened muscles, its language revealing years of turmoil that eventually left her void. She doesn't glance at the werehyenas surrounding her not even once, she simply ignores the loathsome yellow glares that the damn curs shoot her. The angry wild-dog-shifters growl and attempt to bite her as she is walking by. They treat her like she is something worthless, something hateful. This kind of disrespect towards the Queen is the most foul blasphemy and the most merciful punishment for the one who performs it is death. Or at least that would be the case under fair circumstances. Simba's heart aches as if it's being stabbed by a thousand blades but he can't do anything at this point; one wrong move and he would blow up his cover. He is forced to stand and watch as the phantom of his mother climbs up the Pride Rock, feeling the waves of sorrow rising by the second, her sight causing the darkness of pain to overshadow his eyes.

Sarabi comes to stand before Scar, her arms crossed behind her back, her eyes cold, steady and emotionless like polar vortexes. "Yes, Scar?" she says, her voice not higher than a whisper; it's so weak that Simba actually has to use his hyper-hearing to make sure that she actually spoke. "Where is your hunting party?" Scar snaps, his voice a bone-crashing demand. He starts walking in circles around Sarabi in a daunting way, a demonstration of power. "They're not doing their job".

Sarabi sighs heavily, hopelessly. "Scar, there is no food. The herds have moved on" she says steadily and sternly, trying to put some sense into the arrogant bastard's head. All her efforts go in vein since Scar glares at her and snaps: "No! You're just not looking hard enough".

"It's over. There is nothing left" says Sarabi, the desperation so visible in her voice that Simba could see its color escaping her lips. "We have only one choice. We _must_ leave Pride Rock" her eyes grew twice as wide, looking as though she was trying to shoot lighting bolts of sanity into Scar's head in order to realize how crucial her point was. Scar turned around and faced Sarabi, his face the façade of a furious maniac. "We're not going anywhere!" he declares spitefully and that makes Simba's eyes ignite by the fire of rage. The situation isn't just difficult, it is endgame! And yet that pathetic and selfish being can't put his ego and his madness aside for the good of his pride! What kind of man does that? Does his senselessness knows no limits? Simba can't take it any more, he refuses to hide in the background and do nothing while the conditions get worse by the second for the people he loves.

"Then you have sentenced us to death!" this is the first time that Sarabi shows emotions and it's not just any emotion but the intense demonstration of anger that burns with the fire of a thousand suns. Her perfect mask of obedience cracks and from underneath appears the strong-willed Queen who shall not let anything happen to her people, no matter what the cost might be for her. "Then so be it!" Scar hisses menacingly at Sarabi's face.

"You can't do that!"

"I'm the king! I can do whatever I want!" he states turning his back on Sarabi, scorning her in every way possible. Sarabi couldn't contain her temper anymore. "If you were half the king Mufasa was, you..." she never manages to finish her sentence. Scar swiftly spins around in a moment of hysteria and smacks her with the back of his palm cutting her off. "I'm _ten_ times the king Mufasa was!" he screams. His strike is so forceful that manages to throw the werelioness to the other side of the courtyard and knock her unconscious.

At that very moment a roar so mighty and powerful that shakes the entire Pride Rock to its very core fills the air, followed by the deafening music of lightings crushing against the solid ground. The heavenly lights illuminate the place, revealing the intimidating image of Simba standing a few feet away from the scene of the crime with his lion eyes glowing brighter than the lighting bolts and his fangs bared through a snarl most ferocious.

Scar literally jumps out of his own skin at the sound of that roar. He had never felt so scared in his entire life than from the moment he glanced over his shoulder and saw before his very eyes what appeared to be the ghost of Mufasa himself sliding down the Pride Rock's side. The figure has the same height, the same build, the same brownish-golden mane as his brother and the haunting red eyes of an Alpha. "Mufasa! No! You're dead!" he murmurs pathetically as he stumbles backwards attempting to conceal himself in the safety of the shadows.

Simba rushes to his mother's side and kneels next to her, concern pictured upon his statue-y features. He places a hand under her chin and searches for a pulse; her heart still flutters, thank the gods. And yet Simba still lifts his gaze to give a poisonous glare at the cowarding Scar.

Sarabi begins to regain conscious, her eyelids slowly open and she comes face to face with the most unbelievable sight! Mufasa! It's him...and it's not him at the same time. The person kneeling next to her is a young man at his early twenties and yet every feature of his face, every detail of his form, reminds her of her dear mate. "Mufasa?" she whispers. _This must be a dream_ , she thinks and yet it feels so real. But how can _he_ be here? The lad turns his head to look at her and he smiles warmly. Lovingly. "No. It's me" he says softly, gently. And then it hits her! That voice. It is more mature, harsh and deep – more grown up – than the last time she heard it but the sound-color, the vibration, of it remains the same. _A mother never forgets,_ _she always knows._ "Simba? You're alive?! But how can that be?" there are no words to describe how she is feeling at the moment. "It doesn't matter. I'm home" says Simba and places a reassuring and caring hand on his mother's cheek, she covers his hand with hers. He feels his skin getting wet by the salty tear drops falling down the side of her face – he would cry too if the heat of the upcoming battle hadn't blocked all his other senses and emotions.

"Simba?" a mumble on Scar's behalf. "Simba!" he now exclaims pretending to be happy. It doesn't work that good, because his voice is trembling with fear. He is afraid for he knows that since Simba is here, he's probably down right pissed off! Scar already pictures himself at the other end of the Alpha's claws. "Well, it sure is a surprise to see you..." he gasps in surprise and glances/glares at the infamous werehyena trio (Shenzi, Banzai and Ed) who are watching the scene from a higher level " _alive_!". The hissing accusation makes all three of the werehyenas gulp in terror and walk out of Scar's sight.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart" Simba snarls venomously as he is menacingly approaching Scar, every fiber of his being reflecting his killer intentions. Scar tries to get away by walking backwards but Simba corners him.

"Oh, Simba, you must understand. The pressures of ruling a kingdom..."

"Are no longer yours. Step down, Scar" it is a declaration, a statement, a demand. Simba's words cut sharper than knives. Lightings continue to boom somewhere in the background.

"Well, I would, eventually" he stammers with a crooked smile. "However there is one little problem. You see _them_ " he points a finger upwards and Simba lifts his gaze to the higher levels of the Pride Rock. Dozens and dozens of wicked yellow pair of eyes stare back at him. Every layer of the building is filled with werehyenas! Their evil laughters mix with the noises of the storm and create a creepy symphony. "They think _I'm_ King" says Scar, his forehead wrinkles in frustration when Simba shoots another deadly glare at him.

"Well _we_ don't" this time is Nala's voice the one that cuts through the silence like a blade. Simba turns around and finds her standing a few yards away from them, surrounded by the rest of the werelionesses of the pride. "Simba is the rightful King" she declares sternly. At the same moment two of the females aid Sarabi back on her feet. Simba finally has all the comrades and alleys he needs right behind him.

"The choice is yours Scar. Either step down or fight" he warns with a spite that can make bones quiver with fear. But Scar doesn't seem shaken up at all. He straightens up his body, his expression gets calmer and something lights up inside his eyes. "Must this all end in violence?" says Scar, feigning innocence and concern. _He is playing them, he is trying to save his ass!_ Scar walks by an angry Simba with an odd-considering-the-circumstances casualty and makes his way towards where the werelionesses are standing. "I'd hate to be responsible for the death of a family member" he pauses for dramatic effect and turns around to give a provoking look at the lad. "Don't you agree Simba?" he taunts. He is being sneaky and cunning, he is using the only weapon which he believes is sharp enough to cut through his antagonist and wreck him. Too bad for him that Simba's skin has grown thicker than stone. "That's not gonna work Scar" he says sharply "I've put it behind me".

"But what about your faithful subjects?" says Scar. He turns to meet the werelionesses' stolid looks with a smile full of mischief of his own. "Have _they_ put it behind them?". Nala's eyes narrow in disbelief. "Simba what is he talking about?" she says.

Scar is now walking in circles around Simba while the lad shoots him glares of aggression – which unfortunately don't seem to have any effect on him. Scar is feeling confident, he has Simba right where he wants him. He has him cornered, he has trapped him in his clawed fist and there is no escape, no turning point, now. "Ahh, so you haven't told them your little secret. Well, Simba, now is your chance to tell them" Scar taunts him, a wicked smile spread across his tanned face as he continues to move around. He stops and stands between Simba and the rest of the pride, separating him from his comrades and leaving him exposed. "Tell them who is responsible for Mufasa's death!". Those last words seem to have pulled a severe string for Sarabi and Nala, because they both turn and look at Simba astonishment-stricken.

And just like that, Scar manages to strip Simba off his titanium armor. A long pause follows and the silence falls so thick and heavy that you can feel it in the air. Simba stands there bared and exposed and he only has two options; either deny his past once again and live his remaining time on this earth in a lie which will do him no good, or come clean and hope that he will find a way to acquire salvation through all this mayhem. At the moment none of the paths in his crossroad lead to a good place...maybe if he had more time...but he doesn't have that luxury! He must choose the best of two evils. He steps forward, remorse painted all over his expression, and says: "I am". He chooses the truth. It's do or die from now on, everything is at stake and he is willing to put everything he has in the game in order to win. Because that's what it is for Scar; a game. Simba won't let him get away with this trick again. He won't allow him to use Mufasa's death in order to manipulate him, not anymore! If the way of fully liberating himself from his sins is to confess them then so be it! He is not gonna let Scar have any more power over him.

But his courage suffers a wrecking blow when he faces Sarabi and Nala. Both of their eyes are wide like twin moons, their mouths open yet speechless. Surprise, devastation and disbelief all entangle and are being reflected in their pale faces. Sarabi approaches Simba slowly, while Nala remains frozen in her place. A hand climbs to cover her mouth as if it's trying to hold back an emotional exclamation. "It's not true" Sarabi whispers. Simba drops his head in shame and pulls away from her. "Tell me it's not true" her plead makes Simba's heart ache even worse. "It's true" he whispers under his breath, remorse dripping from his words like the blood from an open wound.

"You see?" Scar yells, subduing all other sounds and whispers. "He admits it. Murderer!" viciousness marks his voice when he snarls those words. A lighting strikes almost too close to the stone building and Scar's green eyes ignite with an evil glow. "No! It was an accident!" Simba snaps, rebel in his voice. Scar circles him again, daunting him like he is about to bring down a prey and consume it afterwards. "If it weren't for you Mufasa would still be alive. It's your fault he's dead. Do you deny it?" he continues to attack him. "No" says Simba. "Then you're _guilty"_ Scar proclaims cruelly. "No, I'm _not_ a murderer!" Simba rebels but the imposingness has given up his voice.

Suddenly he feels weak. Scar's accusing glare and the viciousness of his words act like a deadly poison that slowly drains him from his strength. He doesn't realize that Scar is walking menacingly towards him until his feet start moving backwards. With his peripheral vision he sees the werehyenas coming down from the higher levels and joining their leader, they gradually shift to their wild dog forms as they progress. "No, Simba, you're in trouble again" Scar taunts, every word that comes out of his mouth a piece of cruelty. He has partly shifted now, his eyes glowing green like infernos and his fangs projecting from the sides of his mouth. "But this time, daddy isn't here to save you. And now everyone knows _why_!" right at the moment Scar hisses out the last word, Simba feels the ground disappearing from beneath his feet and the gravity pulling him down. _They had led him to the edge of the cliff and now he is falling over!_

"SIMBA!" Nala screams. Simba uses his claws to hold on the edge for dear life. As if on cue, a lighting strikes the ground below, causing a fire to start up. One wrong movement and Simba will fall to his doom.

He tries desperately to climb back on top but he slips off every time. He claws the stoney surface again and again but he is not strong enough to lift his weight up and climb. In the meantime, Scar stands over him and watches him struggle. _Simba is trapped between a rock and a hard place, and he doesn't know which fate is worse!_ "Now this looks familiar. Where have I seen this before? Hm, let me think" Scar mumbles and scratches his chin. "Oh, yes, I remember! This is just the way your father looked before he died" the amusement in his voice is sickening.

Simba feels himself slipping off, his claws scratch the texture of the Rock while sliding down. He braces himself for the mortal fall, but before he looses his grip on the edge of the cliff, Scar claws his hands and steadies him in place. _Just like he had done to Mufasa._

Simba is about to thank his luck but then Scar's evil gaze captures his own stunned one and the he feels as if he is swirling in a vortex of darkness and void. "And here's 'my' little secret..." he hisses in a wicked way. He brings his mouth close to Simba's ear and whispers three words: "I killed Mufasa!".

Three small words and yet the affect they have on Simba couldn't be more powerful. Images flash before his eyes as the memories overwhelm his mind like a forceful tidal wave. He relieves every moment as if it is for the first time – only that now he sees it through a new light. Mufasa falling over the edge into a sea of grim, killer wildebeests. His agonizing scream of a last dying breath. And himself watching from above in horror and despair. _"Nooooo!"_ he remembers he had screamed when his world had started crushing down around him. When he thought all this was his fault. _Only that he never was the one responsible._ Someone else ruined his and Mufasa's life that day. He doesn't have to hate himself anymore. That privilege belongs to Scar now.

"Nooo!" this time it's not a scream of devastation but a battle cry. Awoken by rage and hatred, the most immense power fills Simba's system and gives him the boost he needs to lift himself up, leap back up and pounce on Scar with feline brutality. "Murderer!" he roars, his words causing a crescendo of united gasps to fill the air on the rest of the pride's behalf.

Scar's back lands with force on the hard solid stone as Simba crushes him down with his higher strength; the superior Alpha subduing the inferior Omega. Simba's fists are against his chest and hold him down aggressively. "No, Simba, please!" Scar begs desperately. "Tell them the truth!" the Alpha demands. "Truth..." Scar stammers. "But Simba truth is in the eye of the behold..." Simba cuts him off by clenching his clawed fist around his neck to the point he can feel his vocal chores tightening. Scar lets out a few shaky breaths in order to fight back the burning sensation in his throat while he is chocking. "All right" he manages to gasp. Simba loosens his grip slightly so as to let him speak – and be heard. "All right. I did it" he says under his breath. "So they can hear you" Simba hisses. An eternity-long moment of torturing silence passes, during which the two mortal enemies exchange venomous stares, before Scar speaks up at last. "I killed Mufasa!"

And that was the trigger needed for the battle to begin, the spark which started the inferno fire of war. The females of the pride – with Nala giving the lead – shift to their lioness form and attack. So do the hyenas. The wild dog pack members growl in sync and pounce on Simba, bringing him down and smothering him like a wave of fur and evil right on the moment he has shifted to a lion. The Alpha roars in pain as a number of fangs are impaled in his flesh and claws leave scratching marks up and down his body.

The lionesses rush to the rescue. They pounce on the pile of hyenas and throw themselves into the fight as well. They punch the wild dogs with their clawed paws, they bite their flesh till it's red from its own blood and cut them deep to the bone. The foul creatures below at the first sign of pain coursing through their veins and immediately pounce off Simba; their priorities have now changed and they are either ready to run for their miserable lives or try to tear of the head of the one who hurt them. Gathering every piece of his power, Simba lets out a battle cry and pushes the hyenas off of him with his paws, bites their necks and slices their throats with his teeth. He doesn't quit fighting until he is free of their grasp. One of the damn things attempts to bite off Simba's head but it is immediately stopped by Nala who strikes it and tosses it out of the way as if it weights nothing more than a bug.

The battle only rages on from now on. The sky has turned a bright red color, reflecting the blood that has been spilled all over the Pride Rock's floors and the crimson flames whose tongues continue to slide across the grassland, burning everything that gets in their way. Lions and hyenas are being rocketed to the air as they pounce right and left, maneuver and perform masterfully savage attacks against each other; their battle cries mix with nature's mad screams and compose a symphony of war.

Suddenly an enormous warthog with a crazy weasel on his back make their appearance and are ready to cause a whole lot of mayhem of their own. Pumbaa comes crushing upon the hyenas like a fireball and knocks them out swiftly. Timon jumps off his back and throws a high kick on one of the wild dog's head. The two companions exchange an empowering look before they separate ways and go kick some ass each one on his own.

Despite the fact that death hits the opponents from all sides, all the attention is caught on the Alpha lion. The only purpose of the hyenas is to take him down in order to leave the lions without a leader and in that way make them even easier to dispose; and they are not easy quitters. But Simba doesn't give up that easily either. Regardless the number of the blows, he manages to repel them each and every time. One pounces on him, he strikes it down before it even gets close enough to touch him. Another one's fangs find his skin, he clenches it in his jaws and throws it off of him as if it weights nothing more than a feather. A third one unleashes a claw attack against him, he retaliates with one of his own.

But without notice one single hyena surprises him by coming at him from behind. More specifically from somewhere over his head. The malicious thing pounces off the elevated jagged piece of Rock it is standing, and before Simba has any time to spin around and react to the upcoming attack, it's impaled his fangs into the flesh of his neck. Simba roars as pain courses through his veins, his flesh is being torn apart and then...a pounding sound echoes in his ears and the pain is no more. Simba looks up and sees the figure of the old druid standing over him, bellowing powerfully, ready to fight. Rafiki had come to help them!

The man jumps off his original spot and gets in the middle of a hyena circle. He takes up a battle stance and with one look he challenges the wild dogs to do their worst. One of them growls and gives him a glare before pacing towards him forcefully, only for Rafiki to perform an impressive back-flip which results to the hyena passing under him and completely missing him. Once Rafiki lands back on his feet, and the rest of the hyenas make their moves, the old druid starts sharing cane-smacks! One, two, three and he has knocked every single one of his opponents out by striking them with his cane or by using his own amazing fighting movements. _Damn that thing hits harder than_ _it seems!_

A long stretch of time that seems like an eternity passes by, full of gore and agony and ferocious action, but the lions finally succeed in driving away the hyena intruders and send them running for their lives through the flaming wasteland that the Pride Rock territory has become. But as the coast starts getting clearer, it becomes visible that there is no sign of Scar anywhere. The coward must fled when havoc wreaked. But there is no place on this earth he can go where Simba can't find him.

* * *

With the hyena's fangs on his tail and no way to defend himself, Timon has reached the painful conclusion that his fifteen minutes of heroism have come to an end. The hyena gains on him and he must constantly remind himself to run. Run and not stop no matter what, or else he is as good as dead! Hazed by the complicated combination of adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins, he doesn't realizes that he's gotten to the interior chambers, the pride's cave, until he is already in. The darkness and silence of the cave conflict with the red light radiating from the fire and the deafening background music of the raging battle that occurs outside. But even in all it's voidness, Timon's keen sight catches the image of something. At the corner of the room a cage is located, a cage like the ones of domestic birds that the druids have around from time to time, only that this one is made of bones. And inside of it a man, with worn off blue bird-men clothes along with brown hair and same-colored eyes, is trapped. "Let me out! Let me out!" the man yells out in desperately while pounding his hands against the boney bars of his prison cell.

The sight of the poor bird-man being trapped in a cage is truly heartbreaking and under any other circumstances Timon would have possibly helped him. But right now being sheltered by four walls of indestructible material doesn't seem such a bad idea. Without a second thought, the little weasel passes through the gap between the bars – which used to someone's ribs once – and places himself inside the cell next to the stunned bird-man. "Lemme in! Lemme in!" he yells out in his human voice, now standing in his human skin.

The infamous werehyenas duo, Shenzi and Banzai, storm into the cave. Once their eyes come to rest upon the two treats trembling in fear inside the boney cage, they begin to approach it. Slowly at first, as if they are trying to psychologically torment their potential victims by stalling the inevitable, and with each step they shift. An evil chuckle escapes Shenzi's lips once they have them both cornered. Her claws scratch the texture of the bones creating a shrieking sound, her fangs are bared and drool drips from them at the anticipation of tasting the sweetness of the fresh flesh as it's been torn apart from the bone. "Please don't eat me" the wereweasel whimpers, his hands united in a pleading gesture. _It's all over! I'm gonna die!_ Timon is screaming from the inside.

"Drop 'em!" Pumbaa's rough demanding voice booms across the room. The two werehyenas spin around and shoot a surprised look at the entrance of the cave. They find the werewarhog man standing in an imposing pose, his tusks jutting out from the corners of his mouth and his darkened fists clenched with brute force. Right now he looks like a bull before of a red flag; furious, dangerous and ready to strike.

"Hey! Who's the pig?" Banzai speaks shamelessly. At the same moment he allows these words to come out of his mouth, the werewarthog's beady black eyes turn into a glowing shade of madness. "Are you talkin' to me?" he growls menacingly.

Timon instantly recognizes the spark ignited in his friend's eyes. He sees the end of this and it's not gonna be good. For the werehyenas at least. "Uh-oh, they called him a pig" he mumbles to himself, the expression on his face half-terrified / half-excited for what comes next. "Are you talking to _me_?" Pumbaa repeats with more spite in his voice. "Ya shouldn't have done that" says Timon. "ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?" at this point Pumbaa's voice has reached its maximum level and it is as clear as day that the savage and senseless part of the warthog has taken over him. Timon rolls his eyes as if he is expecting an all too familiar catastrophe to occur and he is bored to face it again. "Now they're in for it" he states with a grin.

"THEY CALL ME MR. PIG!" Pumbaa bellows. He charges, lets out a battle cry and rockets himself towards the werehyenas – who are just too bewildered and frightened to move. They never knew what hit them.

Everything happened very quickly. Pumbaa crushed on them like a cannonball, his attack was so sudden and uncontrollable that the werehyenas had no time to react at all. He was beating them up so ruthlessly that was too much even for them. At some point in all of that chaos, Pumbaa crushed on the cage of bones and completely demolished it, causing Zazu and Timon to break free.

Ed was sitting outside the cave and was listening to the frenzy when suddenly he sees Banzai and Shenzi storming out as if the very fury of the Gods is on their tails. They stumbled on him during their exit and screamed that they had to get away now!

And just like that Timon, Pumbaa and Zazu manage to kick off the remaining werehyena squatters of the pride's territory and their cheers of triumph fill the air.

* * *

 _Where are you? You can't keep running forever._ Simba left the bloody battlefield behind him for the grace of pursuing something far more important, in order to fulfill his own personal mission; hunt Scar down and bring him before justice – one way or another. He looks at every corner, explores every inch of the Pride Rock, climbing higher and higher up his levels. He is looking for any sign of him, even the slightest. A sample of scent, a track, his shadow forming against the granite wall. Suddenly a lighting strikes causing him to turn his gaze towards that direction...and then he sees him. The ray of light illuminates the side of the Pride Rock, revealing the figure of Scar walking up the trail. Scar is startled by the lighting but the face he meets when he makes the mistake of glancing over his shoulder is what scares the life out of him.

Scar attempts to flee, Simba lets out an enraged roar and goes after him. He chases Scar all the way to the highest level of the Pride Rock, the top of the stone throne which looks like a blade cutting through the crimson sky, wrapped up with laces made of flames. This is the end of the road for Scar, he has nowhere else to go except if he wants to jump over the edge of a cliff.

A powerful roar echoes, Scar glances over his shoulder and sees Simba pouncing over the fire. Once his feet touch the ground, he partly shifts and begins to approach Scar slowly, menacingly, tormenting and intimating him like the skillful predator – a hunter and a killer – he is. As the Alpha werelion paces through the flames, their red color radiating to his skin and hair, and the look on his eyes burning brighter and deadlier than the the physical fire which surrounds them, he reminds of a demon rising from hell or like a vengeful angel descending to earth to burn the sinners alive. "Murderer" Simba snarls, venom dripping from his tongue. Scar has shifted partly now too. "Simba, Simba, please. Please have mercy, I beg you" he stammers weakly, the desperation and hopelessness pictured all over his darkened face. The coward actually has the nerve to beg for pity at this point, after everything he had done. "You don't deserve to live" says Simba with all the hatred that vibrates inside his soul. He is getting closer and Scar feels powerless before the supremacy of the Alpha. He drops to his knees like a suppliant. "But, Simba, I... am... family" he stammers again, trying to move some of Simba's emotionals strings but at the moment he doesn't seem to have any. At least not for him. And then he drops the last card that he was hiding under his sleeve, the last resort. "It's the hyenas who are the real enemy. It was their fault. It was their idea!"

Little does he knows that Shenzi, Banzai and Ed had followed Simba and they've been lurking in the red shadows. But most importantly, they've heard everything that has been said and done here. They've witnessed Scar's betrayal, and one look at their snarling snouts reveals that they will make him pay for double-crossing them.

"Why should I believe you?" Simba now looms over Scar and the Omega cowards before of his feet. "Everything you ever told me was a lie" he hisses accusingly, he leans closer to Scar so as the latter may be able to see the inferno raging inside his glowing Alpha eyes. "What are you going to do?" says Scar "You wouldn't kill your _own_ uncle...?".

He can kill him. He has every god damn good reason to do so and no one is going to question that. This greedy, disgraceful abomination crawling in his feet and begging to be given a quarter won't be missed, he will get the punishment he deserves, justice shall be served. So yes, Simba can kill him. But he is not going to do it. If he kills Scar then he is no better than him. He isn't going to act like him, he won't fall so low. He is better than this. "No, Scar" he says, although the sharpness and the roughness are not missing from his voice nor his expression. "I'm not like you".

The air returns back into Scar's lungs for a while. The solace is faint and vague but it's still there. "Oh, Simba, thank you. You are truly noble" he stammers in gratitude as he rises back on his feet. They now stand at the same level. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. How can I, ah, prove myself to you? Tell me anything, anything"

"Run" Simba speaks the sharpest of orders. Scar is left speechless and stares at him bewildered. "Run away, Scar. And never return" the irony is too great to be ignored. Scar manages to regain his composure. "Yes. Of course" he mutters as he awkwardly passes in front of Simba's iron glare. He walks away very slowly as if he is...stalling or something. "As you wish" his next words come out as an insulting and loathsome snarl "your Majesty!" and before Simba can as much as blink, Scar has thrown a pile of embers in his face. "Aaah!" Simba screams at the feeling of the smoldering bite against his skin.

He brings his hands to his face in order to wipe away the embers and in that moment he lets his guard down. The next thing he knows is a different pain stabbing him – the one of two rows of sharp teeth being impaled into the flesh of his neck – and a crushing weight bringing him down. Roars echo scattered in pieces in the air as Simba shifts into a lion under Scar's teeth and tries to free himself from the shackles of his jaws. He hits him with his claws, punches him and strikes him again and again until the slightest of breach is being formed and he is able to release himself. Simba throws Scar a heavy blow which results to him pulling away. Both of the opponents are quick to recover, they jump on their hind feet and collide with the speed and force of a thousand comets.

The fight is brutal and bloody, the opponents equal – the one is powerful and angry while the other is cunning and sneaky. Simba scratches the side of Scar's face but that barely made him flinch. Scar retaliates by clawing Simba's face twice, the blades of his paws cut the golden lion deep, causing Simba to roar in pain. Simba manages to shake the pain away and when he strikes again he makes it matter. He throws a full-clawed punch on Scar and he bellows in anguish. But that only dizzies the black-mained lion and he throws a stronger clawed punch against Simba's head. The latter roars again while the other throws the final punch which tosses Simba by the edge of the cliff.

Simba lies on his back with his arms open like an angel with broken wings, a warrior waiting for the blade of the sword to run through his body and finish him off. And then he sees it. Scar pouncing over the flames, the monstrous demon which aims to take away his ability to draw breath. But Simba would be damned if he'd allow him to even have the chance! Moving swiftly and cunningly, he lifts his feet and places them below Scar's stomach. He used all the force he had in him to shove Scar over his head and over the edge of the cliff. He heard his body pounding against the walls of the Rock as he was descending, eventually crushing on the ground. Simba picked himself up and looked down, finding his foe lying on the solid earth in his human form.

* * *

The first thing Scar sees when he regains his conscious is Shenzi, Banzai and Ed standing before him. They don't look very happy to be honest. "Ahh, my friends" he says, in a way relieved to see them. Unfortunately the reply to his greeting is the cold, sarcastic and scornful laughter of Shenzi. "Friends? I thought he said we were the enemy" she said maliciously, the look in her eyes giving away her bad intentions. "Yeah" says Banzai, a matching grin decorating his own face. "That's what I heard". All the color had disappeared from Scar's face and his eyes are filled with terror. "Ed?" they ask simultaneously. "Oo-oo-ooh, he-he, he-he-he" is the only thing the lunatic werehyena is able to say but they still get the point. He licks his lips for emphasis.

Soon the rest of the werehyena pack gathers and they circle Scar. He tries to talk them out of this, but the wild dogs are not exactly creatures of reason. They pounce on him one by one and feed off of him as he is screaming and begging for his life. His death is slow but his end is sealed.

* * *

The great battle is over and the war is won. Grey clouds gather over the Pride Rock and soon the rain starts pouring. An act of mourning for the lost souls and at the same time a way of entirely cleansing this sacred ground from the existence of evil. The tears of heaven put out the fire and wash away the ruins of the fight.

The pride's warriors and defenders returns to the courtyard – Timon and Pumbaa, the werelionesses, Rafiki, Zazu – and just as they are about to wonder where their Alpha might be...they see him coming down the trail. Alone. His wheaten skin is stained by blood, his hair and face are dirty and his armor buries claw marks. His looks might show a terrible state but the look in his ruby eyes speak of tranquility, reassurance and triumph. No more proof is needed to tell Simba's comrades that he's been crowned victorious.

In his descent, he passes next to Zazu who bows his head in respect. The werelionesses who pass by him do the same, adding a glance of gratitude and awe in there as well. Simba is warmly reunited with Sarabi, who finally has the chance to embrace her son after all these years and welcome him back home. The pride and joy that lies in her gaze cannot be described with simple words. An equally emotional reunion happens shortly afterwards between Simba and Nala. The two mates share a meaningful kiss in a moment of affection which could last for much much longer if the sound of druid's cane dancing in the wind hadn't been heard. All eyes are now on Rafiki, he gestures his cane to the direction of the stoney aisle. He invites Simba to takes his place on the throne.

The lad stares at the Rock with uncertain eyes for a second but then he takes a deep calming breath and steps forward. When he gets at Rafiki, the old man bows in respect but Simba pulls him in an impulsive hug. Rafiki gives him a friendly pad on the back before pulling away in order to lock eyes with him. "It is time" he says and Simba nods.

All eyes are glued on him as he makes his way on the stoney aisle, getting closer and closer to the edge of the Rock. Nala and Sarabi stare him in pride, Timon and Pumbaa in amazement and Zazu in awe. Once Simba reaches the edge, he raises his gaze to the sky as if he is looking for a sign that he is doing good. And then he sees that the clouds over his head have been separated, cut open right in the middle, exposing a light shred of clear night sky – the same way it happened the day he was introduced to the world as the heir to the throne. "Remember..." it's the voice of Mufasa calling out to his son from the great beyond for one last time. _I will_ Simba promises with all his soul. His gaze then turns forwards, to the horizon and to the future. A smile full of self-confidence is being born in his face. And then he roars the loudest of roars. _The King has returned._

The werelionesses unite their roars with his own, accepting him as their King and validating his place as an Alpha.

Finally the new glorious era is about to begin.


	11. Epilogue

As they say, time heals all wounds. It took a lot of it for the pride to rebuild her homeland, for the flora to start growing again with care and for the stink of evil magic to go away but eventually everything went back to place. Soon the Pride Lands went back to their previous glory. Life returned too as the herds and the other packs started filling the capital again. And with a more capable King running things, Saeva found her way to prosperity once again.

Today the people of the kingdom have more than one reasons to celebrate, be festive and exhilarate since it today the presentation of the royal couple's newborn child will take place!

An endless crowd of shape-shifters surrounds the Pride Rock, their cheers overwhelming the atmosphere. On top of the Pride Rock, King Simba and Queen Nala have already taken their places. On the King's right, Timon and Pumbaa stand tall; the two Strays that from social outcasts turned into members of the royal court and to the King's dearest friends. Zazu is present of course – the royal counselor cannot be missing from such an occasion – flying around and observing the events from above.

Nala slides her hand into Simba and entangles their fingers together. Simba turns at her and offers a look full of love to his mate, his darling, his Queen. The kingdom couldn't ask for better rulers and none of them could ask for anyone else as his match. They had known it all along that this was their fate, that they were meant for each other. Their bond is something beyond meassure and their life can't get any sweeter than that. And the source of their happiness is now being brought to the front in Rafiki's arms.

The druid carries the little cub in his arms. It is a girl. A beautiful baby girl with golden hair and sparkling blue eyes just like her mother. She is a perfect princess. She flicks her eyelids open and her parents smile at her, the first smile she ever sees. And then Rafiki raises her to the heavens so as the entire kingdom may see her. The future Queen, the heir of the throne, the seed of the purest of love and the daughter of a major hero. She is all these and her journey has only begun. But it has been foreseen that it will be a great one. An exciting adventure and much more. _She is Simba's daughter after all._

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 **So that was it guys...the end...it's bitter-sweet honestly. I'd like to send my love to everyone who supported my first story, I don't think I have the words to describe how much your positive reaction means to me. Thank you for over 2.000 viewers, I never expected I could reach such a high number! :-) I'd also like to send a big 'thank you' to Izi Wilson whose wonderful reviews accompanied me in every step of this journey. I hope I'll have the chance to write more stories in the future. We'll see! Until then...see ya! :-)**


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